#5 seconds of summer writing

[ifancyharry]

Close As Strangers

what it is: Harry has been away for six months and YN wants to move on - based on Close As Strangers by 5 seconds of summer!!

word count: 4k+

Harry hurried down the hallway all the way to his room, sliding the key card against the key-reader, unlocking the door and pushing it open with his palms pressed against it.

He quickly removed his shoes, tossing them near the door, before plopping down on the hotel bed, his back against the headboard.

He fished out of his skinny jeans his phone, grimacing at the screen that read 3 missed calls from ‘Angel <3’.

He sighed as he unlocked it, typing hurriedly the number he knew by heart on the keyboard, and putting it on speaker, too tired to hold the phone to his shoulder for the call.

He waited for her to pick up as he listened to the incessant ringing of the line.

“Pick up, pick up” he whispered, biting at the skin of his thumb to suppress his sighs.

He knew he was late. And he felt like he could only imagine the disappointment YN felt when he didn’t answer her call.

He and YN had picked out a specific time throughout the day where the both of them had to be available. No matter what the other was doing, at 7 o’clock they had to answer the phone, which was a pretty understandable rule, and Harry had found it easy to comply to it at first, excusing himself to take a call or getting covered by his band mates if he couldn’t make up an excuse quickly enough. But with time, his schedule had gotten really busy.

And he sometimes missed her calls.

He wasn’t the fresh out of XFactor sixteen year old he’d been when they first started dating. He was Harry from One Direction now, and despite him feeling as the same shy guy that worked in a bakery, life around him had changed, and with it, his relationship.

He knew how she was; he knew she wasn’t answering because she was upset. And Harry really didn’t blame her, but he just didn’t find it reasonable to be upset (“stubborn little thing! — he’d say, once she had calmed down and answered the phone — It doesn’t benefit neither of us if you don’t pick up ‘cause you’re mad!”).

He rolled his eyes once the line went dead, and opened the text app instead, typing quickly with his fingers.

Baby pick up I wanna talk to you

After a couple of minutes, he wrote again: please

I miss you

And after that, he tried the line once again. This time, she picked up after five rings with a small “hello?”, her voice sounded croaky distorted from the phone.

“Hello angel. I’m sorry I didn’t answer.”

“It’s okay”, and Harry felt her sigh through the phone, “i was thinking we should push back the calls until you’re back…”

“What?”

“I know you’re pretty busy,” she said, sternly, “and I don’t want to bother you.”

“What?” Harry repeated, and once he realised he already asked that, he cleared his voice and said: “you could never be a bother”.

YN couldn’t see him but she knew he was shaking his head. She tried not to picture the frown in his brows and the pout on his lips, otherwise she couldn’t possibly keep going.

“Things are different now—”

“No.” He cut her off, “don’t say that, angel. Nothing’s changed. It’s still us.”

“Harry” she softened her tone to make sure he really understood her, “it’s still us. — she nodded firmly to herself — I think it’s best if we stick to texting for now. It’s okay.”

“Okay… okay, if that’s - if that’s what you want. Okay.”

“It’s better this way” she sighed once again and Harry felt her breathing through the phone, her shaky breath loud in his ears as if it were his own.

“But we’re good, right? Tell me we’re good.”

“Yes, of course we’re good.”

Harry nodded, staying quiet as the words she’d just spoken lingered in the air between them. Despite being so far away he could almost feel her right next to him as she kept talking, unaware of the heavy weight he felt on his chest making it a little harder to breathe, the sudden realisation that maybe they weren’t good after all.

-

Harry:

Good luck on your exam baby xx

Harry typed the message quickly before locking his phone in his hands.

“1 minute, guys!” Paul reminded them, and for the first time in three years, Harry didn’t want to perform.

YN had a really big exam, the most important of her course, and his heart ached at the thought of not being there with her. He didn’t want to go on stage, and if he was a bad person, he wouldn’t. He would call his driver and go straight to the airport. But Harry wasn’t like that. No.

Since the beginning of his career, he always felt like he owed something to someone, because as he often said to YN, things like this don’t happen to people like him. What he meant with ‘people like him’ no one truly knows, because YN is sure Harry would be successful even if he wasn’t in the band, even if he never went to XFactor, he would have found a way to do what he loves. People would’ve known him either way, because he’s Harry Styles.

And if he didn’t… was it that bad? Wasn’t a life with her not enough to him? She often wonders that, but then she feels extremely guilty and she stops. She knows it’s wrong to think in such a way, because Harry says many times that that XFactor audition was the best thing he ever did in his life, but sometimes you can’t really control your heart as much as your thoughts.

“Harry, stop texting and let’s go!” Paul shouted, from his position on the doorframe.

Sometimes it’s though, for Harry. He tries really hard not to snap at the crew members because he knows they’re just doing their job, but he would often like to say: handle me a little bit softer, please! Because he is still human, and despite enjoying his job, he still needs to be handled gently. He’s only 19.

He obviously never says anything because as stated before, he’s had this strange feeling of owing his career to someone (no one in particular… his fans? Simon Cowell? He doesn’t know, he just knows the feeling in his gut), and he doesn’t want to disappoint anyone.

Harry throws a quick glance at him and nodds, sighing heavily as he hears his phone ding with a message.

Angel <3:

Can I call you, please? I don’t feel good

“Harry, I said let’s go.” He said once again, walking towards him and taking his shirt in his grip, tugging on the sleeve a bit.

Harry grimaced a little at the thought of not answering YN’s text, but he hadn’t opened it, so he guessed she’d probably think he was already on stage.

“Yes, yes, I’m coming!” He shrugged, tossing his phone on the couch and turning towards the door.

Paul nods and “c’mon, rockstar” he said, ruffling Harry’s hair playfully.

“Hey!” He pouted, chuckling as he bumps his arm against his.

Harry tried not to think too much about YN and her message, but he couldn’t help the pang in his chest as he walked out of the changing rooms and heard his phone ringing, the personalised ringer he set YN when he first bought the phone hitting him right in the heart.

He rolled his lips in his mouth as he walked towards the stage, the image of YN all alone at home with her phone to her ear hunting his thoughts.

-

Harry:

Hey, baby, how are you? What are you doing?

seen, 10.27am

Answer meeeee

seen, 11.47am

Are you mad at me? Why aren’t you answering?

seen, 12.01am

Angel <3:

Hary.. sprry i was ouy

Harry:

Are you drunk?

Angel <3:

Jst a litle bit hahahaahah

Harry:

Are you safe?

Angel <3:

yea, wit Emma xx txt tommrw

Harry sighed heavily as he rubbed his temples, tossing his phone on the bed beside him. He closed his eyes as he tried to soothe the impending headache as best as he could. He knew he shouldn’t think like this, but he sometimes can’t help but get angry with her; they never get time to talk, and the only time he can call her, she’s out drinking with her friends. It’s wrong and he’s being unfair, of course he knows. He’s just… he feels defeated. And left out. She feels so far away, and he’s sad he can’t be there with her. Why is she drinking? Is she celebrating something? Did she pass her exam? He doesn’t even know. He didn’t even ask, really. Because he was on The Late Late Show in the morning and was already performing with the band by the evening.

So he’s aware it’s his fault, but at the moment, he just feels like being angry at her. He’ll feel guilty in the morning, and he’ll try not to think about her like that ever again, but tonight… he allows himself the feeling.

He feels sick to his stomach when he realises he doesn’t even know who Emma is. He’s been away so long she made new friends he never got to meet.

-

Harry:

I wish you were here.

Harry knows this relationship isn’t going to work. He knows it deep in his heart, the feeling has been growing deep in his belly ever since he auditioned on xfactor, and if he was a better person he would end it.

He would take his brand new (very expensive) phone, digit the number he knows by heart and just… end it.

Dump her, to say it as straight as it is.

But he can’t.

He knows it’s what’s best for the both of them, he can tell she wants to move on, enjoy life with her friends, be loved by someone who could show his love by being present, but he is too selfish to do that.

The mere thought of her with someone else kills him, makes him sick to his stomach. So what does he do instead? He looks for her in every face in the crowd, in every person he meets (and there’s a lot).

Incoming: FaceTime call.

From: Angel <3

“Hi, H” YN whispers softly as soon as he answers the call.

“Hi angel.”

“I missed you, feel like I haven’t seen y’re face in ages”

“I know”, he clears his throat awkwardly, unsure on what to tell her, “still the same pretty face” he jokes.

“No, you look…” Harry can see her furrow her brows down to the middle, “you look different… older”.

What she really wants to say is he looks… glowier? Like someone who slept for twelve hours or someone who just came back from a ten days vacation at an all inclusive resort.

It’s weird, seeing him like this, he sort of lost his edgier and childlike state.

He looks more mature, yes, but also more polished. His once fluffy and untamed hair look shiny and… styled? He certainly has hairdressers, because YN saw it from an instagram post, but she thought it was like a one time thing… not a recurring one.

She feels kind of out of place, in front of this boy - guy, more like - she hasn’t seen in six weeks.

She finds it hard to remember it’s still her Harry.

She wonders how many things he saw in these six weeks, how many things he did without her, how many new places he discovered without sharing it with her, without making her a part of it.

The awkward energy isn’t lost on both parts, and if YN isn’t afraid to show it, Harry tries all he can to keep the conversation normal. He won’t give up.

“You look beautiful as ever” he says with a grin, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

She only partially breaks in a smile, because she doesn’t want him to feel bad.

It’s not him, entirely, it’s them… it’s them as a whole.

“Everyday gets harder to stay away from you” he reiterates, “but I’ll see you soon, okay? At your birthday?”

“Yeah… okay” she gulps, her hands playing nervously with a stray thread coming off of her cream sweater.

“Soon. I promise.”

She nods and pretends she believes him.

The conversation only lasts for a couple of minutes, their hours long calls are just a memory by now, and she asks a couple of questions to pretend everything is fine and not alarm him.

But she knows he can feel something shifted between them, because nothing is as once was.

-

“I think we should head inside, love” Anne kindly said, placing a gentle and comforting hand on her shoulder. “I don’t think he’s coming.”

“No” YN shook her head firmly, in her stomach a nauseous feeling was tingling her insides; she tried to defend him with everything she could: “he can’t. He promised he’d be here. He’s coming. I know he is”

“Okay” Anne murmured, as she threw a wary look in Gemma’s direction, “let’s just wait a little bit more.”

“Yes!” Gemma agreed, “maybe his flight is late…?” She suggested, albeit with little conviction.

YN nodded her head absentmindedly, her gaze lost in the pinkness of the sky extending before her.

She had wanted to wait for his arrival to cut the cake, refusing Gemma’s offer (more like plea) to at least light up the candles to sing her happy birthday, so everyone was starving and YN had the strange feeling they were all upset. With her or with Harry she didn’t really know.

It’s not like she blamed them, the scene presented in front of them (YN waiting all day for Harry who didn’t even call to tell her he wasn’t coming; YN refusing to invite her friends because she wanted it to be just close family and she wanted to spend as much time as she could with her boyfriend) was pathetic as it was already.

She really didn’t think Harry had it in him to miss her birthday.

Everything YN could really think of was how thankful she was it was just her, Anne and Gemma. What would have happened if she had invited more people? She would have ended up looking like the fool who gets stood up at her own birthday by her own boyfriend.

They had been waiting since lunch time and it was already sunset, the now orange sky a dreadful reminder of how much time was passing and how late it was getting.

In her heart, buried deep under her hope, she knew he wasn’t coming. She knew his flight wasn’t late because he never boarded it in the first place, breaking the promise he’d made her that he’d be there for her birthday.

She tried to think about a birthday she passed without Harry, but nothing came to mind. Ever since they started dating, he’d always be there celebrating with her and making her happy on what is supposed to be a day all about her.

She tried to think how much she was willing to wait, she didn’t want to encounter in the possibility of having to wait until late night, but she knew that if she didn’t give herself an ultimatum she never would have stopped waiting for him.

“YN…” Anne interrupted her train of thoughts, once it started to get a bit chilly in the garden and the humidity was starting to get uncomfortable.

“I know.” YN interrupted her briefly, trying not to pay too much attention to the way her eyes were starting to tingle a bit, the humiliation being so bad it was starting to grow inside her like a balloon waiting to pop, “it’s okay.” She nodded, reassuring Anne, but maybe herself too - a little bit.

She shifted her gaze to Gemma, who frowned at the look on her face, “it’s okay.” She repeated, “I knew he wasn’t coming, after all, I knew.”

She could feel their eyes on her as she brought a hand up to her chest, hoping that maybe the warmth could soothe her aching heart; but nothing about her was warm.

She actually felt really cold, her hand on her chest only accentuated her panic and humiliation as she could hear her heart beat fast against her chest cage.

“I am so sorry” Anne said, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly,

“We’re certainly not leaving him any cake” Gemma joked, but her humour fell on deaf ears, because neither YN nor Anne laughed. In Anne’s opinion, there wasn’t anything to laugh about, and in YN’s… well, she wasn’t really paying any attention to her surroundings.

“Let’s go inside, love” Anne repeated once again, but this time YN nodded and got up from her chair.

She inhaled a little before heading towards the door.

Once she was inside, she felt the warm air hit her cheeks, and the sweet smell of the cake cooling off in the oven invaded her nostrils.

The cozy ambience was becoming kind of overwhelming, and she wished she could just close her eyes and be out of that damn house. The house where she spent all her best days with her boyfriend. Was he even her boyfriend anymore?

She felt sick to her stomach thinking those kinds of thoughts, but how couldn’t she? There weren’t many things she cared about like she cared about birthdays, and Harry knew it all too well.

“I think I’ll just head home…” she sighed, a heavy weight on her chest was making it harder and harder to breathe.

“Don’t you want to stay? We could eat some cake and…”

“No” she shook her head forcefully, “I just need to go home, I have to wake up early tomorrow”.

“Okay, love. I’m…” Anne began saying, but she stopped herself. There weren’t many words to say to excuse her son’s behaviour.

“Just… drive safe, okay?”

-

YN felt very alone as she laid in her bed that night; it wasn’t later than 9pm, way too early for her bedtime, but she really didn’t care, at that point she’d do whatever worked to make the day end sooner.

What was worse (if there even was something worse) was that her phone hadn’t rang one time since she’d arrived home, and that meant not only Harry hadn’t shown up to her birthday lunch, but he didn’t even feel guilty about it.

That was everything she needed to know.

She’d always been convinced chasing dreams couldn’t be harmful in anyway, and maybe for Harry it hadn’t been… but for her? What about her? Was she selfish for getting in the way of his dream of a life time?

All these questions ran through her head, a sharp pain growing behind her eyes from keeping in the tears for too long. They spiked against her eyes but she refused to let them fall, she had cried too long for him. This was really all she could do, but without even realising, she had started crying long before even getting in bed.

“Stop it” she condemned herself, pressing the tips of her fingers on her eyelids to dry the tears. “Just stop” she sobbed against her hands.

She doesn’t know for how long she laid there, and at some point she thinks she eventually stopped crying, too exhausted to let anything else out.

Before succumbing to a what she knew would be a troubled sleep, she grabbed her phone and typed a message quickly.

It read: we’re over.

-

When YN sent that text, she knew they weren’t over. They never could be, not without talking it out at first, and Harry… well he’s very stubborn, and at first, it was a quality she liked about him, but when he started calling her back to back until she answered, she reevaluated that.

Text from: Harry

I won’t stop calling until you answer the phone

I’m not joking, YN

Answer

We’re not over

Are we?

We can’t be

You can’t leave me like that

Answer the phone please

I can explain

It took her two days to call him. Two days of uninterrupted messages, two days of tears and an ache in her chest she tried to get rid of by eating tons of ice cream.

Her finger had lingered a while on the green call button before pressing it, but it only took him two rings to answer.

“YN…” he started, and he sort of sounded relieved, she has to admit that.

Like a weight had been lifted off his chest.

“Stop pestering me with all those messages.” She said firmly, “I don’t want to talk to you”.

“YN” he sighed once again, “please let me explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain, Harry! You missed my birthday” she said, and she tried really hard to keep her voice from breaking, but it didn’t really work.

“I know.” He said firmly, “my phone broke, I couldn’t… I didn’t know how to reach you… and by the time I got a new one, I had a concert and I couldn’t… you don’t know how these things work YN, I can’t just drop everything and run to you”.

She felt his words like a bullet piercing through her chest, “you’re right, I don’t know how these things work, but I still deserve to be treated with respect”

“I know. I know you do”.

Sometimes YN wishes Harry had never auditioned for xfactor in the first place. She knows it’s selfish but she doesn’t care. If that makes her a bad person, so be it.

If he’d never auditioned they wouldn’t be here, and she wouldn’t have to beg him for the respect he’d always showed her in the past.

“We really tried to make this work, Harry” she said in a soft voice, at this point all she could feel was defeat.

The whole situation was simply too hurtful to keep going.

“No. Stop. Don’t talk like that.” He’s quick to reply, and she could hear him get up from the bed she supposed he was sitting on.

“You missed my birthday! What am I supposed to say?”

“Enough with this birthday! I explained how things went already. You can’t just leave me like that for a single mistake”.

“But it’s not just the birthday! it’s… everything” she snapped, tired of him dragging a situation that’s been difficult long before he missed her birthday.

“Everything? You’re being unfair, YN. I tried with all I could to be present”

“But you didn’t! You never call, you’re always busy doing god knows what! -

“I’m working, YN, what do you think!” He interrupted her, but she started again with a scoff.

“I feel like I don’t know you anymore, H… buying fancy cars, hanging out with models… what? am I not enough for you anymore? Is that it? If you want out, why don’t you tell me? Why don’t you leave me?”

At that point she was certain she was crying, she could feel the warm tears streaming down her cheeks, but, in the confines of her home, she didn’t really care. Plus, it’s not like Harry hadn’t really seen her cry before.

She cried when she got her first A in maths Harry helped her study for (she had studied really hard), she cried in his arms all night when her childhood dog died (he had died an happy death at 16 years old, but still, it didn’t dull the pain), she cried to him when a mean guy called her four eyes in middle school and Harry had threatened to beat the shit out of him (she realised she loved him then), and she cried with him when he received the call he’d been selected to audition on xfactor.

All these times she’d cried, he had always been there to console her, comfort her, rubbing her back, holding her close to his chest, caressing her face with his soft hands. Where was he now, then? Why, after she threatened to end their relationship, he didn’t drop everything and hop on the first flight home? Why was she crying alone in her room?

A beat passed before he answered, and she wondered if he’s mustering up the courage to leave her. To finally do it. She hoped he would, quick and painless.

“I don’t want to leave you, even if it hurts, okay? You think it doesn’t pain me hearing you cry and not being there? It does. But I won’t give up on us. Even if it hurts, I’m not giving up. Are you?”

“I don’t know” she started, uncertain on what to say.

“No, you know, you know you love me. You do love me, right?”

“Of course I do” she reiterated, sniffling with her nose.

“That’s all that matters. We’ll get through this, I swear.”

It took a little bit more of convincing until YN finally gave in. She didn’t know how long this would go on for, how long they could make it last before going off like a grenade and destroying everything around them.

All she knew is this time, he didn’t even promise he’d come back to her soon. What did it mean? Is something not said as important as what was actually said?

-

After six months he’s been away, YN realises she should have left him that night. She would have saved herself so many missed calls, broken lines, fights and once again, tears.

Her desire to keep watering a dead plant ruined everything in the end.

She wanted out the very first moment he started missing her calls, she wanted to end it, and had she done it, by now she’d be somewhat partially healed, hanging out with her friends, checking his profile maybe once a week when she was really drunk.

But no.

These six months without him only alienated her and hurt her, and she’s finally mustered up the courage to leave him like she intended to.

It’s not a threat this time, as she tries to find the best words to leave him with.

She’s typing her message when her phone screen turns black for a fraction of a second and then his picture invades the screen.

Call from: Harry

“YN” he breathes out, not even letting her say hi to him, “I’m coming home. They told us today, I’m coming home.” he repeats, so many times he doesn’t even let her process this new information.

She doesn’t say anything, the words she has longed to hear for a long time now seem dull, like a cruel joke she doesn’t understand.

“You’re coming home?” She gulps, trying to steady her racing heart.

“Yes!” He exclaims, and then he proceeds to explain the logistics of his trip back home, how all the guys had begged for some time off and how the label finally agreed on two weeks of rest.

All YN can think about is how this is all too overwhelming to understand.

It’s been six months since she’s seen him.

How will it feel? Seeing him again after so long? Touching him? She feels like she doesn’t really know him anymore. So many things he did without her, so many people he met she doesn’t know and she will never be introduced to, so many new songs written, some that aren’t even about her.

She really wants to be happy, trust me she does, but all she can think about is how it feels like, by now, they’re as close as strangers.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

"You fight so dirty but you love so sweet, talk so pretty but your heart got teeth."

[kindahoping4forever]

Cashton via Emma Rosen on IG

[dealinquent]

everytime we get 5sos studio content, my body physically gears up and starts buzzing like a flock of birds getting ready to migrate for winter

[irwinsblender]

hi! politely requesting a dad!luke or dad!calum one-shot. maybe it’s his first time taking care of his and y/n’s baby after she gives birth?

thank you sm for your request!! i apologise that it’s taken me a while to write it but i’ve been super busy the past few weeks! this was also my first time writing a dad!au so i hope it turned out okay!

—

sweet melody

pairing: dad!luke x reader

summary: you were having trouble getting your newborn to sleep and luke steps in to try and help out

warnings: none

word count: 1.4k

✩ ✩ ✩

It had been a few weeks since you and your boyfriend, Luke, became first time parents together to your daughter, Skylar. She was beautiful and getting to have this child with him was more wonderful than you ever could’ve imagined.

However, you didn’t truly anticipate how much hard work it would be to care for her, attend to her needs when she was upset and to make sure she always got what she needed.

The hardest part was figuring out what she wanted. Grown people can communicate and tell others what they need, whereas a baby can’t speak. They can’t specify what it is that’s making them so upset.

Some days had been better than others. Skylar would be happy with being fed, getting her diaper changed, wanting to take an extra nap. It was all good.

Today and especially tonight had been particularly bad. You were sure she cried for most of the day. You tried feeding her, but she didn’t want food. Went to change her diaper but it didn’t need changing. Tried rocking her to sleep just for her to continue to cry.

Once it got to almost three in the morning, Luke had asked if you needed help with anything. Which you politely declined and told him to get to bed.

It was only by morning that Luke realized that you never came to bed. Your half was empty when he woke up, leaving him wondering what had happened.

He found you next to Skylar’s little bed, in your feeding chair, sound asleep. You’d fallen asleep after hours of not being able to get your baby to sleep.

Luke was going to leave you, when he noticed Skylar moving, and next she started the crying.

You woke suddenly, looking around the room frantically. Seeing Luke first who had a sympathetic look on his face, and next you heard your crying baby.

After a long sigh, you stood up, reaching to pick Skylar up, laying her in your arms as you sat back down to rock her back and forth.

“What is it, Skylar?” You asked, voice almost breaking. “I fed you not long ago, baby, I don’t know what else to do.”

Luke recognised the look on your face immediately, you were going to start crying too if he didn’t do something to help.

He walked over to you, kneeling down beside your chair. He brushed his hand across your cheek affectionately as he let Skylar take hold of one of his fingers.

“What can I do, lovie?” He whispered.

“I don’t know, Lu, I’ve tried everything, she only got to sleep an hour ago.”

“You were up all night?”

You nodded, closing your eyes in exhaustion, “She just won’t settle, this is so hard.”

Luke sighs, standing up from where he is, “Here, baby, I’ll take her from you, let me try and get her to sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

“You need to get some rest too, you haven’t had much since she was born,” he said as he’s already taking Skylar from your arms. “Gonna see if some daddy - daughter time will help.”

You watched him as he stood, rocking her gently in his arms. He looked at her lovingly, happy he gets to do this parenting thing with you, as well as worry on his face in that you’ve had no sleep and can’t get her to stop crying.

“Go to bed, babe, you need to get some sleep.”

“Are you sure?” You asked. “I can try feeding her again—“

“I’ve got this, angel,” Luke reassured. “You need the rest as much as she does, go to bed.”

You sighed, knowing he’s right, “thank you, Lu,” you kissed his cheek softly before slowly starting to leave the room. “Come get me if you need anything.”

“I’ve got this, baby,” Luke insisted. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He watched as you left the room, holding Skylar in his arms. She seemed like she was in a lot of distress, making Luke worry slightly. He could do this though, right?

Luke sat in the chair you had just been in, rocking your baby back and forth, hoping she’d settle. It didn’t seem to be working as well as he’d hoped.

“Are you hungry again, Sky?” He asked, of course only getting a loud cry in response. “Come on, let’s go and feed you.”

He stood up, heading downstairs to the kitchen. He found where you’d placed a couple of feeding bottles, taking one into the living room.

Luke sat on the couch, holding Skylar as you would. He tries placing the bottle close to her mouth, hoping she’d latch onto it, but instead she turns her head away.

“No? Not hungry, bubba?” He tries one last time, with no good result. “Okay, um, I’ll check your diaper.”

He stood up again, placing the bottle where it was before, heading upstairs to Skylar’s room to get a clean diaper to change her.

He lays her down, shushing her softly to try and calm her. He found her favourite stuffed animal to hold onto, which seemed to help slightly.

Luke starts working on her diaper, frowning slightly, “yea, definitely needed a change.”

After placing a fresh diaper on her, she stopped crying. He sighed in relief. Maybe that was the reason she seemed in such distress again.

“Now let’s get you to sleep,” he holds her in his arms, rocking her until her eyes are closed and she seemed to go to sleep.

He reached down into her bed, placing her down gently along with her favourite stuffie. For the first time since she started struggling, she’s peacefully asleep.

Luke smiled to himself. Happy he could get Skylar to settle down. He cautiously starts to creep out of the room, pulling the door in just slightly.

A few steps down the hall, ready to go and make himself some food… he heard cries. Baby cries. You weren’t kidding when you said you couldn’t get her to settle.

He rubbed his forehead, going straight back to Skylar’s room. She was on her back, wailing, tears rolling down her face.

“What’s wrong, Sky?” Luke wiped her tears away with the gentle pads of his thumbs before picking her up. “I don’t know what I can do.”

Luke sat down in the soft chair. He rocked her around again, having no results. He gave her the pacifier she always used, she spat it right out.

He wondered how you’ve done this since giving birth. Luke had been here for support, but you’d done most of the work so far.

Putting her to bed, feeding her, changing diapers. He’d changed a few diapers, but hadn’t done much else. This was his first time attempting to care for Skylar all by himself.

He didn’t want to disappoint you, he wanted to figure this out without having to get you for help. Plus, he knew you needed your rest.

Luke leaned his head back against the chair, closing his eyes to think. He hummed to himself, trying to figure this out.

And then it came to him.

“I’m on my way to wonderland, take off my suit and wander in,” he started softly singing one of his own songs. “For a moment, or stay for a lifetime.”

To his disbelief, Skylar started to quieten down. Her crying almost completely stopping. Luke smiled.

She reached up, Luke holding out his hand. She took hold of his index finger in her little palm, looking up at him intently with her beautiful blue ocean eyes, just like his.

“I’m on my way to wonderland,” he continues singing. Watching as Skylar’s eyes started to close. “Take off my suit and wander in.”

He cautiously stood from the chair, reaching to place her in her bed again. This time, he continued singing this sweet melody to keep her settled.

It did work. He got through at least half of a song to ensure she would stay asleep while he stayed near her. What he didn’t hear, was you in the doorway.

“You sound beautiful, Lu,” you whispered.

Luke immediately turned to you. Seeing the soft smile on your face. He waved his hand for you to join him, letting you sit on his lap, your head leant against his shoulder.

“I think we just found our way to get her to sleep,” you looked at your daughter, the most peaceful she’s seemed for the past few days. “You may have a new fan.”

“Well, that’s because she’s your daughter,” Luke leaned slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Our daughter.”

Luke smiled at that. Happy to be doing this with you. To be living this life together, to have this family together.

You couldn’t be more thankful for Luke, always here for you, always finding new ways to help out. As he discovered today.

This life was perfect and there’s nothing you would ever do to change that…

✩ ✩ ✩

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[slvtforasht0n]

Jealousy, jealousy

title inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s track on Sour

.✦ || Boyfriend!Ash x Reader

.✦ || This is your first time being a stagehand at your boyfriend and his band’s show. Even though you couldn’t watch him perform, a particular interaction between him and a female fan piqued your interest. You couldn’t help but look, ought to see what’s happening. Instead, jealousy gets the better of you once you see what’s really going on, your mood permanently shifted. At least, that’s what it felt like.

A/N: first half is highly based on that one interaction that happened in the 5SOS diaries. forever jealous of that girl lol. anyway, i hope you like what i’ve brought out for you for my first post ever. kinda always wanted a tumblr account to post every idea or blurb i get, but ya girl can be very very lazy sometimes.

inspired to write smut ever since i had wattpad. saying this loud and proud. loved duplicity, stall and malignant so there’s that random fact (turn it up for all the other harries/directioners reading this)

i don’t write that much so i’m still trying to improve wherever i need to. ps. english isn’t my first language, so if you do spot grammer/vocab mistakes, it’s not on me sista, still learning:3 sooo i guess i’ll just finish it off by saying this; sit back, relax and enjoy :^)

CONTENT WARNING: fluff & smut, praise kink, oral (m!receiving), spitting, sliiiight dirty talking

WORD COUNT: 5,2k

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As much as you hate your boyfriend in this moment— he wriggled his way to here. His hands all over your frame, reaching to every spot he can find, almost as if his hands have a mind of their own.

His kisses grow more impatient, needy and full of want. Drawing gentle circles against the small strip of bare skin on your back, making you both break the kiss apart with a small gasp.

You weren’t sure of your emotions. Did you want to continue and make him have his way with you? Or did you want to push him away and strangle the living hell out of him?

A faint whimper escapes your lips in between the kiss, his hand traveling down to the heat between your clothed legs. That feeling alone begs to differ. As much as you don’t want to admit to it. You still have that small abhor, but also intense jealousy from what happened prior to all of this.

He breaks the kiss apart, his eyes finding yours. The hazelly green forest almost dispersed into his black pupils, blown out and primed. Fuck… you think to yourself. He looks so provocatively striking, like an erotic sex-god, which is enough to drive you wild— both in a good and a bad way.

“Let me make it up to you, amore mio.” He prompts, his hands finding your waist again to pull you in closer, showing you how induced he is, the want and need inside of him written all over his face.

—

This day has been…chaotic, booked, a haywire of physical and mental exertion that drove you into madness. Almost. You only had a 20 minute break before going back to work, crew following along, five different people guffing into your earpiece that just rubs you the wrong way. Being irritated isn’t even slightly nearing to what you’re actually feeling.

Finally, you walked inside the venue, a moment of calm before the storm. Happy you can let your guard down for another minute or two. You take a deep breath, moving scenery and props along with two other crew members, joining in after your one true moment of silence.

Being a stagehand at a show of your own boyfriend is uncommon, just something you’re not really used to. You’re not sure if you’re able to keep your cool seeing Ashton on stage, beating those drums expertisely, face etched into pure concentration. You always found it to be a work of art, to see your boyfriend practicing at home or somewhere that isn’t on a stage.

But hey, you bite the bullet once it’s showtime, having to face away from the stage, meanwhile he’ll be there to steal the show.

The crew had cued that the band arrived several moments later, and as much as you want to run away to find him, you’re still stuck planning, discussing and arranging tonight’s act.

Hours have passed on and exhaustion seemed to get the better of you. The small gig now filled with a couple of thousands of fangirls, boys, moms, dads, you name it. Two thousand to be exact. You’re not sure if it makes you intrigued, or uncomfortable. Either way, you find yourself lucky you’re not in that crammed crowd.

Playing more intimate, smaller shows was out of the ordinary for the band, something they wouldn’t have done a year ago or two.

The show has started not long after, and your back is facing the stage, eyes on all of these screaming fangirls for their idols in front of them, hands in the air, phones recording, but mainly their loud screams that’s luckily muffled by your in-ears. All you could do is focus on the beat of the drums, imagining his every movement of prowess, how trickles of sweat is already forming on his forehead.

You don’t have it in you not to look, so you do. Just the smallest of sneak-peak. Though, his eyes immediately found yours, like all of his focus was on the back of your head this whole time. Your heart starts to pound faster against your chest, turning your head back to the crowd ahead. Just keep your cool… keep your cool— You have to remind yourself every minute. Or rather every second.

You’re glued to the spot, making sure everyone’s safe and sound. However, there’s a small interaction going on between a fan and… Ashton. His voice being heard through the microphone gives you some sort of solace, your focal point on every pronunciation and syllable on the words that falls from his lips.

This particular interaction is focused on the fan’s cardboard sign, stipulating that it’s her twenty first birthday and now legal to drink, suggesting Ashton a shot. They expeditiously agree and brought the stunned girl up stage. Your eyes followed hers, turning around to look at the stage ahead. You didn’t have the heart in you to dismiss this and act like nothing’s going on.

Ashton’s change of demeanour, presence next to this fan, and just the overall vibes he’s got going on throws you right off the wall. It’s like he’s throwing her a curveball of coy behaviour, something that doesn’t sit right with you. It’s either that or you’re overthinking it. But then again, you might not be, especially having your eyes glued on him right now, watching him unfold into someone he’s not.

You hate it. You hated every second of it, watching the scene ahead. She gets to be the one giving your sweaty boyfriend a hug, a prolonged hug. Sharing a shot, looking into his eyes- him looking into her eyes. It’s like hot steams are blowing out of your ears by how much you hate seeing this with your own eyes. If it were possible, you’d throw Ashton’s drum kit right to his head out of spite and anger. You can’t believe him.

You’re definitely not overthinking, since you’ve picked up on him being ‘the man of the show’. Trying to seem more charming and appealing, in all the wrong ways. You know he loves getting this type of attention, boosts his ego in the wrong way and you’d love to just kick him right in the nuts.

Once the show’s over, you’re finally in your own privacy, changing your uniform to your day to day outerwear. A knock is heard on the door, catching you out of your hazy thoughts, while also feeling jealous and incensed. You open the door and you’re immediately knocked down with a feather.

“What are you doing here?” you utter, laced in a grim tone, not expecting to see his cheery face. Ashton stands in front of you, eyebrows raised by your surprising outburst.

“Checking in on my girlfriend. What else would I be doing?” He responds nonchalantly, entering the small room without needing to ask for permission. Of course he wouldn’t.

He runs a hand through his damp curls, looking around the room before looking back to you. It’s like he struggles to read you and why you’re not responding to him, why you’re facing away from him. “Hey…” He starts off, walking up to you and placing his hands on your waist, making you turn around to face him.

You push his hands off your body almost immediately, his eyes on stalks. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he counters, his eyes searching yours.

The more he acts this oblivious, the more you want to give into the idea of kicking him in the nuts and walking out of this room. You decide to just tell him before he’s going for the the well known question ‘are you on your period?’.

“The fuck was that up stage?” you angrily mutter, crossing your arms over your chest.

He seems confused, which is one more reason to be angry at him. How can he be so painfully heedless? You desperately need to just knock some sense into that thick skull of his.

“What?” he raises his arms in an ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ motion.

“Oh, so now you’ve got memory loss? Great.” you roll your eyes, facing the other way instead of him. Again. How can a human being manage to piss you off this much? It’s inane.

“Amore… tell me.” He waits for you to say something, anything at all, but all you do is stand there and glare, causing him to take a step closer to you. “Was it the girl who I did a shot with?”

Bingo.

You can’t help but roll your eyes again, as if it wasn’t that obvious why you’d be mad at him about that in the first place.

“Oh come on… Nothing happened, alright? Just did her a favour and probably made her whole night.”

“Yeah, right.” You bite back immediately, not buying any of the bullshit he’s spitting. You can’t even look him in the eyes. You’re deranged in anger, but also so confused and hurt. He’d never gone this close to a girl before in all the months you’ve been dating, so he surely needs to understand why you’re acting the way you are.

“Why are you making a big deal out of this?” he murmurs, managing to boil your blood to the point you could burn anything you touch into ashes.

“Are you kidding me, Ash?” you poss in vexation, glaring through his soul. Words can’t express how tense you’re getting and how much you want to wipe that foolish smirk off his face.

“Babe, you can’t be serious, can you?” He sneers, his eyes giving you a once over. You only let out a frustrated sigh, turning your back to him a third time.

You don’t know what he deserves more, a sucker punch right to his jaw or the infamous silent treatment. Maybe both could give him a well-earned reality check.

“Are you seriously mad about some measly fucking interaction? Really, Y/N?” he huffs, seeming more annoyed than amused this time. Which makes you, on the other hand, infuriated by even more rage.

The way he acts so unbothered is insufferable. You turn on your heel, facing him, an angry etched expression on your face he certainly can’t dismiss now. “You were flirting with her, you ass! Right in front of me!” You bark back, sick of his apathetic state. Just utterly sick of him.

“I wasn’t, Y/N! Why would you even think that?” he retorts, his obliviousness turning into annoyance, his arms now crossed over his chest as well.

You don’t respond, only letting out a spiteful scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I really don’t see what’s wrong here. You have no reason to be mad at me. None.” he mutters, which is just the cherry on the cake, isn’t it? You let out another angry huff before turning on your heel and leaving him in the room, despite it being yours.

However, you’re not as quick as you thought you were as he catches your wrist, wrapping his hand around it and pulling you closer to him.

“Don’t run away from me, baby. None of that bullshit. Talk it out with me, curse me out, just don’t ever shut me out, okay?” he calmly explains, his eyes trained on yours with his eyebrows creased together in concentration on you. Only you. You take a deep breath, flicking your eyes in between his.

“Why were you flirting with that girl?” you ask after a long pause, your eyes focusing on that one curl that fell on his forehead.

“I wasn’t.” He responds, and it just made you feel even more obscured from this ridiculous situation that brought tension between you two.

You’re starting to think you might be overdoing it. Might be a bit of the jealous kind and just making this ought to paint you to be dramatic.

“Is that all you have to say?” you mask getting offended by his short, incoherent reply, just by answering repulsively back.

“What more can I say then? You’re making a mountain out of a molehill here.” He crosses his arms again, and it just messes with your head on what type of emotions and feelings are coursing through him. What his thought process is, ‘cause he’s doing everything he can to dismiss the issue. Dismissing your feelings that are as valid as can be. At least that’s what you wanna think.

“Never mind.” You pull away from his grip, sitting down at the nearest couch. You’re done trying to argue to a wall, because that’s the position you feel like you’re in, feeling trapped in a loophole if he continues to act this clueless.

He looks over at you, no remorse whatsoever, and that somehow rises more anger out of you, though you make sure you keep your poker-face. There’s no point anymore if he won’t try to understand you.

“Are ya really just gonna sit there and stare?” he asks. But after a long pause, he just knows there’s not going to be a reply.

“Silent treatment won’t solve anything, love.” he adds, looking at you across the room, his eyebrows furrowed as he runs his hand through his hair again.

“Y/N…Just quit it already, will ya?” he grows more annoyed and impatient by your attitude. However, nothing will make you utter out a word again. Not when he at least attempts to apologise.

“Fuck’s sake, Y/N… I don’t have time for this. I’m sorry, alright? I wasn’t flirting with the girl- would never do that.”

You think to yourself you might have overexaggerated on wanting an attempted apology, cause it just pisses you off even more.

“Talk to me…” he prompts, taking a few steps closer to you.

You don’t respond, and he takes it as some sort of indication to stride closer. He takes your hands in his, pulling you up to your feet and cupping your jaw, making sure you look him in the eyes. “Please?”

You hate him. You hate him so much you’re becoming a tough nut to crack, and he’s fully aware of that. He knows how stubborn and jealous you can get over the smallest things. Still, you don’t know where his mind is.

He pulls you in for a kiss, connecting his lips with yours, catching you by surprise. His hands are trailing down your body and reposing on your waist, pulling you closer than before.

If this is how he ventures his way out to say sorry to you, when you can’t take it as a simple word, you’re not…entirely against it.

You stare profoundly into his eyes after he breaks the kiss, his eyes searching yours—But your feelings are very conflicting. You so want to give in, but you’re still mad. And you still hate him. Well, you’re trying to make yourself hate him.

It feels like it’s been ages since you’ve uttered out a word, but that’s none of your concern as you pull him in for another heated kiss, your hand finding its way through his tousled hair, earning a soft groan on his end. His tongue slips out and swipes at your bottom lip, asking for permission to enter your mouth as you oblige immediately.

He has you fully wrapped around your finger. You can’t even be mad at him anymore, even if it’s play pretend.

His hands are on your waist, but it didn’t take long before one hand slips between your legs, making you instantly weak in the knees.

“Let me make it up to you, amore mio.” replays in your mind over and over when you brought him in for another desperate kiss, pouring out all of your feelings and love for him. The way he said it, the desperation in his voice and his dilated eyes— you can never say no to that. You need him.

You’re a hot mess, letting out huffs of pleasure as he continues to palm you through your jeans, like an attempt to hear you, even if it’s not through articulated words.

He pulls away from your lips, traveling his heated series of kisses down to your pulse-point, eliciting another hot whimper out of you. You’re dazed and all you want is more. More of him. Just more.

He hoists you up, your legs immediately clinging around his hips as he leads you towards the small couch, laying you down and hovering his body over yours.

He’s such a sight for sore eyes, carrying the grace of dawn and the mystery of dusk. Your eyes wandering over every feature of his face, just taking him in. He bites back a smile, his eyes lingering on your chest, then back to your eyes. “Want me to make you feel good, yeah?” his voice is ragged with desire, low and husky that has such a toll on you.

He goes back in for a fervent kiss before you could even respond, pouring out all of his love for you that makes you forget the anger you once had a thousand times more. Your hands wander over his shoulders, all the way down to his hips, pulling him in closer, trapping him in between your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist.

He lets out a low grunt in between the kiss, his hips grinding against your heat, drawing out another small sound out of you. His hands that has a mind of its own fondling your breasts through the thin material of your shirt, like he couldn’t get enough of you and he physically needs more. You want more of him too, totally entranced by him, the heat of desire pooling in between your legs with an intensified want to have him in ways that’s unrefined. He moves towards the crook of your neck again, marking you up as his.

You’re already impatient as is, your uncoordinated fingers fumbling with his belt, like you can’t stand seeing him in clothes for another wasted second. He lets you, still immersed in marking your neck up, making sure there are angry marks left behind.

Once you’ve found the zipper of his tight jeans, you tug the material down, his hands coming in rescue and helping himself out of his jeans. In an instant, he pulls at the hem of your shirt, dragging the material over your head and throwing it somewhere in the room. Your eyes have wandered off to the door behind him and suddenly you’re too aware that someone could walk in easily.

“Babe… this room has no lock.” you mention, evoking a small smirk on his face. “Don’t you think it’s more fun that way? No one’s gonna come in.” He teases, eyes shamelessly staring at your bra, like he’s trying to smog up the power to disappear things with his mind.

“But-“ he’s quick to pipe you down by a kiss on the lips. “No ‘but’s’, you’re safe with me, amore.”

You pull him back in, sick of prolonging this any longer and seriously needing a good fuck if he’s gonna make it worth the while. If this is his way to at least attempt to apologise, then he better makes it good. Not that he has ever disappointed you in that division.

He hovers over you again, faces inches from yours, his hand snaking under your back to unclasp your bra in what feels like a nanosecond. He pulls the material off your body like it’s some sort of pest- like he’s been wanting it off since the moment he had laid eyes on you. He nips and sucks at your skin, hands exploring every inch of you. He licks a stripe right above your boobs, staring up at you with a well-known grin, eager to have his way with you.

He swipes his tongue over your sensitive nipple, lapping you up and then latching you in between his lips, paying great attention to you with his mouth, suckling and nibbling on your flesh. His other hand wanders to your untended breast, his fingers playing with the other nipple. You let out a soft whimper, already captivated by his fervent skills, your fingers threading through his soft curls.

Your eyes catches his, a sultry grin appearing on his face that has you overdriven with more arousal, more desire for him.

He moves to your other nipple, giving it the same, equal attention, drawing even more sounds and pants out of you.

All you really want is for him to hurry up. Your mind can’t get off of that damned door that has no lock on it, and he’s about to undress you intimately, which has made you apprehensive. He quickly catches on by your stiff demeanour and he lowers himself down, licking a long strip down your bare stomach- trying to make you forget about the door.

You lull your head back, your breath ragged and uneven as you tug at his golden strands tighter than before, earning a low grunt from him. He sure knows how to make you forget about stuff in an instant.

He has his hands on each side of your hips, trailing them towards the button of your black jeans. He works his way to get you out of your clothes, fast and determined, pulling the fabric down your thighs as you help him kick off the material.

“So gorgeous f’me, amore.” he grunts, quickly discarding his shirt off of him, accentuating his perfect, sweaty body to you, the sculputred abs and delicious pecs staring right at you as we speak. You sit up straight on the couch with only the flimsy laced underwear you’re wearing covering three percent of your body at most.

His eyes widen the moment you drop down to your knees in front of him, head-level with the black boxer briefs clung tightly on him. It highlights the swell of his tent that’s covered by the thin material of his Calvin Kleins. Your doe-eyed expression seems to get the better of him, already biting his bottom lip from your sight.

You waste no time, hooking your fingers under the material of his boxers, sliding them down ‘till they drop to his feet. He’s quick when it comes to stepping out of them, eager for you.

You’ve seen him like this before, plenty of times even, but right now— it’s like his arousal is as painful as it seems. His tip an angry shade of pink, pre-cum glazing down to his shaft. His breathing is laboured, his eyes concentrated on you, like he’s trying to moderate himself, keeping everything under control before he snaps.

You wrap your hand around his cock, the smallest of touch already making him hiss in pleasure. With deep shared eye contact, you start to pump him slowly, collecting the pre-cum that’s spilling out of him, whirling it over his tip, eliciting another desperate whimper from his agape lips. His eyebrows are creased, the purity in his eyes completely gone- reciprocated into something more coarse and obscene.

“Baby.. open your mouth.” he demands in a breathier tone, and you instantly oblige. With that, he cups your jaw with both of his large hands, his eyes intensely staring at yours. You don’t know what to expect, but he stars to hover over you, his face significantly closer to yours. He gives you that snarky smirk you know all too well, and then makes sure to lift your jaw a little up higher as he spits into your mouth without caution. Your eyes widen a little, his spit landing right on your tongue.

“Now swallow f’me, amore.” he orders, and you do exactly as he says.

Jesus…even in times like these— he still tastes divine.

His one hand threads through your hair, his other leaving the underside of your chin. “Show me what you’ve got…be my good girl.” he growls, standing up straight. You’re completely gone off guard by this small interaction between you and him, but you quickly shake it off, your trembly hand going back to where it was before.

You lick a strip up over his shaft, swirling your tongue on his tip that has him already writhing for more. You finally take him in your mouth, wrapping your lips sweetly around him and taking him inch by inch, a swall groan leaving his lips in exchange.

You set up a space, sucking him as you wrap your hand around the part that doesn’t fit in your mouth, his hand threading in your hair expeditiously. Low grunts and groans escapes his mouth, totally entranced by your ministrations as he couldn’t help but thrust forward, meeting your pace and rhythm all. He hits the back of your throat at every thrust, tears already brimming in your eyes that eventually seeps down to your cheeks. You couldn’t help but suck him with more precision, eyes deeply concentrated on his breathtaking face.

The desperation and anguish is written all over him, like he couldn’t bear this and needs you in ways where it’s humanly impossible to describe. Sweat already trickles over his forehead, eyes pleading for you, in a way that makes you believe his pupils are contorted into spelling your name- his want like a screeching howl that blares through your eardrums.

In a quick motion, he pulls out of you and you take your time to catch your breath, heaving them out like you’ve ran a marathon, quickly wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He pulls you to your feet, hands on your hips and instantly pushing you backwards on the couch as your back hits the cushions, laying flat on the surface. Hovering over you, he delicately scans his eyes over your whole frame, taking in every detail from your tousled hair to your almost naked self. He traps himself in between your spread out legs, his length making contact with your lower abdomen, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

His arms are on each side of you, a few strands of his curls hanging over his forehead. “Need to fuck you, baby. Need you right now.” He murmurs, his voice hoarse and his tone laced in pure lust.

You bite your bottom lip as he positions you, hands firmly grasping your hips in desperation. “Please…” You utter out, the only thing your lips can form as a sole word, while your mind is going a million miles an hour with how much you have to say.

The warmth of his palms are soon replaced by the cool air hitting your hips, his hands sliding down to your thighs as his fingers prudently play with the lace of your underwear. “So beautiful…” He murmurs in almost a whisper. “I only have eyes for you, you know that right?” He adds, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, examining him. “I know...” you reply in a soft mumble and his lips quirk up in a lopsided smile.

You glance down his body, and the sight alone has you as weak as water. He pumps himself a few times, eyes still trained on yours. He pulls at the laced material of your panties, prodding his length right under the fabric as he teasingly begins to rub himself against you. You let out a stifled moan, eyebrows creased upwards in simple pleasure. He’s fervent with you, fastening his pace ever so slightly that drives you insane. “So wet f’me, yeah?” he grunts, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss.

Your soft moans are muffled in between the kiss as his hand that rested on your hip is now gripping your thigh, quickly hooking it over his shoulder. He positions himself at your entrance, gliding himself inside you fervently with your panties now pushed aside. A soft gasp escapes your throat, head already lulled back by how full he’s making you feel once he’s fully inside. After making sure you adjust to him, he begins to set up a slow pace, hovering over your body even closer as this new profound feeling intensifies, hitting you in all the right places.

“So fucking pretty for me, baby… Let me hear you, yeah? Moan f’me…” he praises, and all you could do in response to that is grow louder- despite still being in a semi-public setting. There’s a small chance someone could walk in, or even hear you through the door, but your mind is elsewhere. It’s on him, totally engulfed in pleasure he gives you.

“Taking me so well…” He pants, heaving out breaths as his thrusts start to become rougher, dragging out more moans out of you. “So good for me, aren’t you? Gonna fill you up so well...” He continues, his hands trailing over every inch of your body, fingers lightly pinching at your nipples, eliciting another whimpery moan from your lips.

He continues to thrust into you deliciously, hooking your other leg over his other shoulder, this newfound angle hitting your sweet spot delightfully over and over again. Moans spill out of you in an overwhelming sensation, that’s probably music to his ears by the way he’s thoroughly captivated by you.

His own moans fall from his lips once your hips buck up to match his rhythm of his thrusts. “I’m so close...” you heave out, eyes rolling to the back of your head. He takes this as a sign to fuck you harder. Rougher. Like he wants to break you in half.

He adds his thumb to your sensitive clit, drawing out louder moans, that has no way of becoming less when it’s only pitching up higher in decibels. “You’re so fucking hot, baby…So perfect.” he praises you, totally wrapped up in utter pleasure, the slapping sounds of skin on skin echoing through the room.

“Please…” you plead in a high whimper, not really sure why, but you’re completely overdriven in ecstasy, his thumb on your sensitivity never leaving you which adds to more pleasure, egging you on.

“Yeah, amore mio? Gonna give it to me, aren’t you? Show me… Show me how good I make you feel.” he groans completely out of breath, his chest glistening with his own sweat. He leans down, folding you in half like a damned pretzel, hitting you even deeper than before. He nips on the skin at the crook of your neck, humming against you.

“Making me feel so good…” he murmurs against your skin, his thrusts piercing more moans out of you, knowing how much you enjoy his rough side.

The bubbling feeling inside your lower abdomen intensifies by the minute, exhibiting that you’re nearing the finish line. He knows by your desperate pants and graphic sounds as he strives to get you to the pinnacle point of pleasure, picking up on his thrusts, fucking you harder against the cushions with fervor.

Your brain starts to feel like scrambled eggs, moving from left to right in a stirring pan as his lips finds yours in a sweet quick kiss, pulling away to look at you. His hands grip your waist as tight as ever, definitely leaving a mark behind. His whimpers like a melody you can never get sick of, no matter how many times you’re willing to repeat the same tune.

A few more thrusts in and you hear the familiar ringing in your ears as you near the edge completely, your climax washing over you like a tidal wave. You scream out his name in the process, clenching sweetly around him as he follows right behind you and finishes, trails of curse words falling from his lips in heavy grunts—filling you with his cum.

He unhooks your legs from his shoulders, pulling out of you with a small gasp. He crashes down next to you, heaving out hefty breaths. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, keeping you close to his glistening body. “See? You’re safe with me, just like I told you.” he breathes, letting out a soft chuckle.

You turn your face to look at him, a genuine smile formed on your lips, despite being completely out of breath. “Mmmh, never said you were wrong.”

He chuckles in response, planting a sweet kiss to your temple. “You felt incredible baby, definitely needed this after the show.”

You smile, all the anger and jealousy from before completely wiped off of you. “I always do.” you counter with a smug grin, giving him a bit of a tease.

“A win-win situation for me, eh?” He eyes you, eyebrows raised with a cheeky smile. You laugh, shaking your head. “Definitely.” You agree, a small giggle followed after.

“So… I take it that you’re not mad at me anymore?” He asks, his voice laced in a sincere tone.

You had almost forgotten about how immensely infuriated you were before this happened. “I forgive you.” you murmur, glancing at him.

“I mean it when I told you I only have eyes for you.” he utters, pulling you even closer than before, pecking the top of your head.

This was definitely a way to end the night, after a very small gig took place and how the man of your dreams next to you can have you riled up in anger as well as desire in the span of two seconds. You’re not complaining about it at all. You wouldn’t have him any other way— even if it means all the ups and downs that comes with it.

————

[thehopefulquotes]

My heart wants to ocme home... I wish I was beside you.

5 Seconds of Summer, Beside You

[perfectfeelings]

My heart wants to ocme home... I wish I was beside you.

5 Seconds of Summer, Beside You

[bartxnhood]

wanna be yours | l.h

luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: luke had his eyes on you from the moment you met him so, it killed him when you couldn’t take the hint that he was in love with you.

warnings: two oblivious people in love, my bad writing, mentions of a lot of drinking

a/n: someone asked for jealous and protective luke ??? say no more. feedback is appreciated ! ALSO didn’t exactly turn out how i originally thought but it’s a good start !! enjoy !!

requests open

not proofread

Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

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there is a scene in a movie where the lead character and the love interest lock eyes.

they lose sight of everything around them, leaving just each other in focus. you never liked seeing those kinds of movies, thought it was cliche, and never believed in love at first sight. if you're being honest, it was overdone, unrealistic, and plain annoying.

but, it was fate that it would fall on you.

you didn't enjoy parties because there were too many people there, you didn't like drinking, and people were making out all over the place, some of whom were newlyweds and others who were having affairs. you hated being messy, and gatherings were messy. also, you made an effort to limit the number of your friends because you found it uncomfortable to be surrounded by so many people.

but ashton, your best friend, pleaded with you to attend this particular gathering. hours would pass, and just when you thought he had finished pleading, he would resume. so you gave in.

that’s how you found yourself at ashton's house, sitting in your car, staring at your phone, and observing the passing of time. It had been over fifteen minutes since you had first decided whether or not to do this. hearing the faint music emanating from the house, your chest felt constricted. you pushed open the car door and walked over to the home. attempting to summon the guts to enter by standing outside the front door.

when the door opened, there was a strong odor of alcohol, as well as loud music and conversation. while searching among the throng of individuals swaying their bodies against one another to find your friend, you regretted your decision to agree. when you eventually located the man after searching the kitchen, the other person standing by his side immediately caught your eye.

everything around you vanished in an instant, leaving you only able to concentrate on the man with whom you had just locked eyes. wonderfully curled hair, flawless skin, eyes the color of the sea, and just enough of his white silk shirt's buttons were undone to make you flustered. he was stunning. all of a sudden, the room contained only you and him. there was only you and him; nothing else or anyone else was important.

but you were pulled from that thought As ashton grabbed your wrist and said, "cmon!", you were jolted out of your trance-like state. ”i gotta introduce you to everyone!" the australian cheered and dragged you into the kitchen where everyone was standing; all of a sudden, you were the center of attention. you waved to the small group of people while saying, "guys, this is my amazing friend, y/n," feeling a little uncomfortable at the unexpected focus. “y/n, this is calum, michael, crystal, sierra, and luke,” ashton said as he made an introduction.

the small group of individuals exchanged smiles, and you shook hands with each person before approaching luke with a gentle "hello."

wow.

your palm touched his, you prayed he wouldn't notice your flushed cheeks, and you both nodded. he was the most stunningly handsome person you had ever seen, by a long shot. ashton once again grabbed your arm away and dragged you out of the kitchen before you had a chance to continue admiring his attractiveness. while waving the group off, you glanced over your shoulder. You weren't angry with ashton since he knew you'd never tried something like this and that you were making a big step by doing so. he also needed a reason to prove to his buddies that you were real and an important part of his life.

at night's end, you were sitting in ashton's backyard, lounging around the pool, admiring the reflection as lights danced across the water of the pool. even though roughly half of the people left, music continued to play. people said he would always throw the nicest parties, and now you understood why. but you simply weren't made for this situation; you were too uncomfortable and worn out from engaging with everyone for so long. You simply wanted to return home, binge-watch your favorite movie in the coziness of your bed, and eat some frozen pizza.

the word "hey" surprised you and made you flinch just a little. your eyes landed on the person standing above you, holding one cup while concealing the other in his pocket. luke apologized for the quick response, "oh, sorry, i thought you heard me," but you just shook your head. you shrugged and turned to face the swimming pool, saying, "no, it's alright, was just thinking." there was a little period of silence since neither of you knew exactly what to say. you had just recently met. “do you want a drink?” he asked. “oh, no thanks,” you said as you once again looked up at him. “i'm not really a drinker.” the blonde let out a gentle laugh. "but you came a party?" while scratching your forehead, you chuckled alongside him. “well, ashton is a push-“ over. yeah. that he is," luke continued your sentence and you laughed. “i think i’m heading home now, im way too tired to stay much longer”. you got out of the lawn chair facing luke.

his mind began racings, he didn’t want the conversation to end just yet. he had to think of something so he could see you more. “do you need a ride?”

your hands were crossed, and your eyes darted back to his and then to the cup in his grasp. "thanks for the offer, but I just live ten minutes away," you said. he extended his hand to you after giving you a nod and pulling it from his pocket. “it was lovely meeting you, y/n,” “you too, luke”

you had no intention of seeing luke again after that. you had your friend group, ashton had his own, and you happened to be a part of both. you had no intention of ever returning to another party unless you absolutely had to be there; that atmosphere wasn't for you. it was too much for you, and you just wished ashton would be more considerate of your decision. you knew he wanted you around; you'd been best friends since high school, and it was difficult for you both to have separate lives.

but fate had something else in store for you.

it was subtle when you first became aware of his presence. you ran into him a few times in town, which wasn't unusual. but then he'd show up at your job, or he'd find his way into the same restaurant you were in. it was amusing at first because what are the chances you'd keep meeting like this?

so you confronted him one day. “you know, if you keep this up you’ll have to take me out for coffee” you started, putting down the record you pick up. this was one of the many times you had run into luke while running errands. this time, the both of you ended up in a local record store. you heard him chuckle softly before turning to you, “are you asking me out on a date?” he leans against the shelf raising his eyebrow. you shrug, “more like telling you to take me out” he nods, leaning in closer. “i see..then i guess i’ll see you tomorrow?”

you and luke are two opposites but somehow you two hit it off

he drinks while you don’t.

despite your differences, you detested parties, and luke's life was spent drinking; not you. you've never thought that opposites attract. yet it was odd because as time went on, you discovered that you were rather similar. you and luke had a lot in common, and you got along just well. it was never dull or tiring since the two of you could converse for as long as it took, even until the sun rose. you frequently found yourself stranded in ashton's or calum's backyard, relaxing on the chairs after talking until the wee hours of the morning like you were adolescents.

each time the two of you are in close contact, there is tension. You adored the quiet glances you two shared. It was much more enjoyable because it seemed as though the two of you were barred from being together.

It was never meant to go this far. You'd been hanging out with Luke for quite some time. you've been wanting to be with him every other day for at least a few months now, waiting for his texts or calls saying he wanted to hang out or if he found a new restaurant he thinks you'd like. or the way he'd subconsciously hold the small of you back while leading you through a crowded area, or how he'd always go out of his way to make sure you got home safely.

it was never supposed to escalate this quickly.

you found yourself wanting to hang out with him even more, wondering if Luke would be there when ashton asked you to hang out. You started thinking about him all the time.

that's when it started getting more complicated. you knew something between you changed after being with him so long. and although you knew how it changed you, you were too scared to jeopardize anything between you not when it was fresh.

truthfully, you just displayed to him, that you'd always be available. you could say no to anyone who had ever asked you out because of your newfound feelings for luke. but you couldn't tell him that, it was too soon. but even then, you couldn't get the sound of his laugh out of your mind, or the way your name rolled off his tongue like it was meant to be there. you couldn't stop picturing what it would be like to lay in his arms, limbs tangled together as he sang you the sweetest lullaby.

unknown to you, luke made an effort to avoid you in the beginning because he knew he couldn't control himself with you. no matter how hard he tried to hide himself from you or push you away, you always managed to find a way into his head like an addictive substance. as you were the most gorgeous person he had ever seen, he wanted to shield you from all harm and evil in the world and would do whatever it took to ensure that everyone knew the two of you belonged together.

but, did you know that?

you began to watch him from then on, looking for clues that could point you in the right direction. you'd noticed him fiddling with his rings, then grazing over the leg of his jeans or joggers, slipping his hand between you on the couch. his hand would inch across the seat, pausing now and then. then he'd retreat without much thought, preferring to rest his hand on his thigh rather than bother with yours.

nothing would have made you happier than to come across his hand. any action would be preferable to simply waiting for him to take the initiative and pleading with your eyes as if it would help. you contemplated inviting him over, striking up a conversation, or even touching his hand. Instead, you remained silent despite your strong desire to speak but your inability to do so.

you have no idea how or why you began to feel more confident around luke; you were the shy and reserved friend before meeting him, but you changed completely after meeting him. and you knew people would judge you for it, saying things like, "oh, i can't believe you'd changed yourself for a guy!" however, this was not the case. he made you feel something that you couldn't put into words. maybe he inspired you to be someone you've never been before.

you were standing outside ashton's door, picking at your nails, debating whether this was a good idea. you were dressed differently than usual, wearing a tight dress with a large leather jacket over it to try to hide your body.

something like this was extremely unusual for you, and you may have been an idiot to dress like this for a man who probably only thought of you as a friend. but it had to be worth a shot, right?

you let yourself in, the music was blaring and the pungent smell of liquor was all too familiar to you. you pushed through the people and eventually got to ashton’s living room where everyone else was. they all cheered and greeted you.

ashton hugged you first and said a bunch of drunk incoherent words about how happy he was to see you. then you greeted luke with a warm while which he reciprocated. “happy birthday luke” you said, he nodded. “thank you, y/n”.

after the small reunion, the group dissolved. everyone was off doing their own thing. you found yourself standing outside, a cup in your hand filled with whatever you found. the night air was a bit chilly which caused you to curse at yourself mentally for wearing such a short dress.

“you look nice.” luke’s voice rang as he came up behind you. You looked over your shoulder and spotted him. “thanks.” you smiled, and he raised his eyebrow. “you dress up that pretty for me?” he was standing next to you now, his comment and proximity were enough to make you blush. “and what if i did?” you retorted. luke smirked, “i’d be thankful because you look so good in that dress.”

he leaned closer, keeping eye contact with you.

he was so close to you that your heart began to beat quickly. you were attempting to read him while his eyes were staring right through you. there are two possible outcomes here. one of two things will happen: either someone will interrupt you like in a cliché movie, or he has the ideal opportunity to kiss you right now.

he leans in even closer, saying, "i'd even say that you should start dressing like this too, it suits you." you felt the blood rush to your cheeks.

kiss me. please. just do it

you wanted him to make the first move because this moment had the chance to change everything. you didn't want to appear so desperate. luke must have noticed your begging expression because he started leaning in again, this time only a few centimeters from your lips.

oh, god. it’s happening. it’s happen-

“come on man, it's time for you to open your presents!" michael interrupted the situation by shouting from the kitchen. you sighed as you saw luke leave. you could almost sense the disappointment in his eyes as he turned to look at you to check if you were following him.

“okay, and it seems the last one is from….y/n!” michael and calum handed over the large box to luke.

luke unwrapped the box, displaying the guitar case as you watched. he looked perplexed as he tried to imagine what you may have given him. the one guitar he had been dreaming about was waiting for him when he opened the case. "y/n.." He takes the guitar in his hands and places it on his lap.

everyone who was gathered around him suddenly turned to look at you. he is the last one to do so.

"you bought this?" He asks, and you nod while beaming broadly. he had never looked so startled to you. how did you know, exactly? “how…how did you?” he trailed off.

"well, you talked about it for so long, and occasionally i caught you looking it up. so i thought, why not get it for you?“ you responded.

luke stood up and hurried to you after putting the red guitar back in its case. you were engulfed by his arms, spinning you. "im grateful. I have never gotten a present better than that. I promise i’ll treasure it” he smiles, “i know you will luke”.

and for the rest of the night, everything went great. until it didn’t.

"y/n," ashton said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"hm?" he had a mischievous smile on his face as you dropped your phone to your lap. "have you ever tried playing the drums?" "no?" you shook your head. It came out as a question as if you were asking yourself a question. "why?" he approached you and reached for your wrist. "you're about to!"

ashton was perched on the stool and sat you down on his lap, having handed you his drumsticks and demonstrated how to hold them properly as his hands caressed yours. he explained that he would only have you play a simple beat. he taught you the basics and then let you play a few beats on your own. you didn't notice how close ashton was, how his breath tickled your spine, or how delicately his hand held yours.

you two were laughing because you couldn't play because you had almost no rhythm. "this is exactly why you guys are musicians," you laughed, rising from ashton's lap and returning his sticks. "nah, practice enough and you'll get good enough to join the band," he winked.

luke watched the scene unfold in front of him, how close ashton was, the way he eyed you like you were some kind of prey. his hand was supporting his chin, his elbow was resting on the couch arm, and his jaw was locked. luke began tapping his finger impatiently against his cheek, were you so oblivious? everyone was making moves toward you, and you didn't even look at him? he pushed himself off the sofa and out of the room to get some fresh air. if he was in there any longer he would explode.

he hated the fact that, despite your lack of effort, you had him in your grasp. luke hated how near the guys were to you and how they treated you like they were hunting prey. how did you not notice how they eyed you? how the other boys treated you like some kind of object. especially ashton.

we’re you so oblivious to their advances? did you not see how luke wanted to rip you away from them and keep you all to himself?

did you even notice his attempts to try and win you?

He wanted the world to know how badly he wanted you, how you were his, and that despite his best efforts to deny it, he was falling in love with you. Luke had difficulty accepting it, but he would go to the ends of the earth for you.

“what was that about?” you ask, after watching luke exit the room. calum shrugged, “who knows. it’s luke” he didn’t look at you as he was nose deep in his phone. you looked around the room, everyone seemed not interested. “he probably left because ashton was feeling you up” someone added. you huffed, grabbed your jacket, and walked outside to the patio.

you saw his silhouette and walked up to him. “luke?” he didn’t respond and you walked closer. “lu?” you spoke the nickname you had given him. he finally turned back to look at you.

you saw that look in his eyes, the only look he had when looking at you. “luke, what’s going on? why’d you walk out like that? did i do something wrong?” his back was still turned to you, refusing to look at you. “you just don’t get it, do you?” he still wouldn’t face you. “get what, luke? the fact that you’re ignoring me in front of everyone and leaving me in the dark.” you were feeling frustrated, upset that he wouldn’t even look at you. “god, luke, just look at me!” you grabbed his arm, spinning him around so he’d have to look at you now.

“talk to me.” you pleaded. your eyes begging as you stared into his blue eyes. luke hated it, he hated how you had him in the palm of your hand ready to do anything for you if you’d just say the words. he detested that no matter how hard he tried, it would always be you. “oh, baby,” his hand caressed your cheek. “don’t make me spell it out for you…you know i want you”

“what?” you were only able to mutter, feeling the heat take over your face. maybe it was the liquor, or maybe it just was the fact that he said those words. you opened your mouth to say something but he cut you off. “every fucking day, I wish you were mine- every single goddamned day.”

you removed his hand from your cheek, silently missing his touch. “how was i supposed to know you felt more for me than just a friend, lu?” you saw his brows furrow. “you never explicitly told me, you wanted me..why?” you trailed off, you watched as he tried to come up with an explanation. “you never, ever, use your words like.”

you watched as he examined your face. you were mad but calm. it scared him, we’re you about to reject him? “for someone who writes songs for his job, he would be able to express his feelings freely. i guess not.”

“how did you expect me to decipher the hundred different ways you look in my direction? this isn’t just on me yknow. luke goes quiet, his eyes looking deeper into your eyes than before.

“i thought my actions would say all they needed to” you reply, “i thought you were just acting as a friend? you and all the guys act the same” luke locks his jaw, balling his fits by his side. “they act that way because they want to fuck you y/n.” you look taken aback legging out a scoff.

“so what about you, then?” “what about me?” “are you acting this way because you want to fuck me?” you smirk as luke realizes he backed himself into a corner.

“i—no? that’s not what—fuck.” he runs his hand through his hair. “let me start over. y/n, i’m sorry i wasn’t honest and i’m sorry i didn’t use my words. but i want you more than a friend should and i need to know, do you want me that way too?” you try to hide your smile while you step closer and wrap your arms around his neck. “see now was that so hard?”

he looks down at you, raising his eyebrow. “you didn’t answer the question.” you let the smile take over fully. “luke hemmings i have been tripping over my feet since the day we first met. yes, i very much want you too.”

he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, allowing him to peck your lips. “i was hoping you’d say that”

(and you can predict the end u filthy ppl<3)

[thoughtkick]

My heart wants to ocme home... I wish I was beside you.

5 Seconds of Summer, Beside You

[resqectable]

My heart wants to ocme home... I wish I was beside you.

5 Seconds of Summer, Beside You

[quotefeeling]

My heart wants to ocme home... I wish I was beside you.

5 Seconds of Summer, Beside You

[kindahoping4forever]

5SOS: He has one of the craziest voices in the game, and one of the deepest hearts to match it. Luke brings joy to everyone he meets, and lights up every room he’s in. Some of the best fits out there too come on. Happy birthday brother.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Calum flying you out to one of the Europe shows bc he knew you always wanted to visit that country

Hi Blanca! Thanks for the request. We're going with Spain because I'm a nerd and they have the longest break after that show with the 5 seconds of Summer show.

Gender Neutral Reader Insert. Fluff--so much of it.

____________

Requests are now closed. Finishing up the last one from yesterday

Feel free to look through my masterlist for more.

_______________

Calum knows it’s ridiculous, but he does it because you like it this way--a hard copy backup of the flight information in addition to the app on your phone. He could call it overkill, but he’s not going to do that. Because it makes traveling easier for you. So he digs out the stapler from your desk and staples the pages together. 

Calum listens, catching the crackle of your phone from the kitchen. It cuts over the hum of the stove vent. “No, my toes are not food,” you laugh. No doubt it’s Duke at your feet as you cook. You’ve insisted on this break during the tour to spoil Calum. He’s just glad that his outfits are by no means tight fitting so he can enjoy every single thing with which you spoil him. 

Calum shuffles up from the offices to the kitchen. He keeps the itinerary at his side. He knows you may be a little annoyed at first. But he had the number to your boss’s line for a reason. And though this might not be for the reasons that he had it--mostly in case you got sick or godforbid injured--Calum’s sure that once you find out the location of the destination any annoyance you have will disappear.

“Smells good up here,” Calum comments, peering into the kitchen. 

You smile up at him. “It’s your favorite. And I could be a smidge quicker but Duke’s annoyed he’s not being fed right now.”

Calum laughs, knowing the old man is pretty fond of his schedule. Calum’s arrival was a small interruption and Duke will not let himself be ignored. “I’ll get it for him. But in the meantime, you should probably get packing.” Calum’s careful to put the flight itinerary on the fridge out of the way of the hot stove or the mess on the counter that he’s sure is tomato juice from your previous chopping.

“Packing? Why would I be packing?” you ask, giving the pot a good stir. A few more bubbles are popping up and you know soon you’ll need to turn the heat down. 

You spin to catch the paper Calum’s tacked up. The cabinets with Duke’s food squeak open. You’ve put all that you can think of on the hinges and nothing gets rid of the noise entirely. You read over the details--noticing you’re flying on what will be the date of the Lisbon show but going into Madrid instead--directly. 

“Cal, what the absolute hell is this? What am I reading?” you ask, a little concerned that you hadn’t seen this coming. Though, maybe you should’ve. Your boss normally had a standing 1:1 with you on Tuesdays but the one for next week had seemingly disappeared. Your plan was to ask about that on Monday, but this seemed to be the reason why the date was no longer showing up on your calendar.  

Calum presses a kiss on your cheek, arms winding around your waist. “A trip to Spain. Because you said you’ve always wanted to go.”

“Looks like a trip to Milan too? Just flouncing me around everywhere?” You laugh, turning back to look at him as best as you can. You can’t get more than a glimpse but Calum’s laughter is soft over your cheek. 

“I like to spoil you too. Besides, you haven’t taken a vacation outside the one we took what? Two years ago. I know you don’t like to take time off unless necessary, but I think you’d benefit from just a few days ago, baby. You know what they say about all work and no play.”

You snort, tapping at Calum’s stomach with your elbow. He releases you and you spin towards the stove to turn the burner down. “I’m just so used to sort of holding things down while you’re gone, you know? You’re gone for big chunks when you do leave that I just don’t think about myself? Not in a bad way. I don’t blame you. I just do what’s gotta be done.”

“I understand that. Just want you to have some time to enjoy yourself. Get out there, explore the world with me because I know you want to do that too.”

You do want that too. You want to not feel chained to your work and responsibilities, but letting go is hard sometimes. Maybe a surprise trip wouldn’t be all that bad. “Have you planned who’s taking Duke?”

Calum nods. “Yes, they’re free and able to watch him. Plants will be watered too. Got someone who will check the house too.” This is how your brain works. You need a plan, clear and concise of what’s happening. Calum can give you that, so he takes your hips in his hands to get your attention back to him. When you look up at him, he kisses your forehead before continuing, “Car’s will get you from here and one will pick you up at the airport. You’ll be getting to the hotel before us as we’ll be getting in late that night and you’re landing about late afternoon, but the hotel knows we’re in the same room. Duke’s getting picked up the day before. I’ve already emailed over the instructions though it’s not really necessary. Spare key’s already in the box and they have the code should they need to get inside for anything.”

A plan. A good one. You nod. “And what am I supposed to do for the few hours that you’re off in another country playing a show? Hmm? Mister-I’ve-Got-All-This-Planned.”

Calum laughs. “Plan what we’ll do with my days off. Explore. Send me pictures of all the shops you’re doing to drag me.”

Your gaze narrows, a playful smirk lifting your lips. “Goddamn you know me so well.” Stretching upwards, you capture his lips in a kiss. His cheeks squish a little in your grasps. “Thank you for planning this, baby. I appreciate it.”

“With honor,” Calum mumbles. “Your boss was very shocked to get a message from me though and I had to swear like fifteen times you weren’t sick or dead.”

You laugh. “Sounds like Tom. I think he gets freaked out even more so when I take time because it’s usually always super serious. Like the time we had to spend the night in the hospital thanks to my food allergies.”

“Yeah, no, we’re never eating at the restaurant again and I need you to not bring up the night I’ve ever seen you in such rough shape. You looked like a balloon. I was so scared.”

It was not a glorious night. You’d noticed an itchy throat after you ate dinner, but hadn’t thought anything of it as the spring blossoms had also been giving you issues lately. But when you woke up, hot and itchy, you felt something was wrong. You couldn’t halfway swallow and the bathroom lights revealed the hives across your chest and arms. You knew immediately that it was an allergic reaction and woke Calum. His panic was immediate but he calmed down enough to administer your epipen considering you hadn’t been able to do it yourself. 

The drive to the hospital was tense as Calum sped through a couple red lights. But you spent only a few minutes before you got checked in. An hour and a half of steroids and antihistamines rectified the situation but Calum was putting in the submission for the day off and emailing your boss on your behalf the second you got back to the house.

You pat Calum’s chest, before turning back to the dinner you’re preparing. “I know, baby. You didn’t like it and neither did I. I’m a-okay now though.”

“I got your epipen refilled too by the way. Please bring the new one for me?”

“Scouts honor,” you return. “Wouldn’t dream of leaving that thing behind.”

 “Good, good. But this weekend, you’re packing. Because you’re going on a trip. No ifs, no ands, no buts.”

“I’ll pack, no ifs, no ands, no buts,” you laugh, pulling the garlic knots from the oven. They’re a perfect shade of brown and you know they’re done. Calum brings the mats closer so you can set the hot tray down. 

“Oh, these look fucking amazing,” Calum gravels at the sight. “I’m so goddamn lucky to be loved by you.”

“Damn straight you are,” you laugh. 

*********

Your suitcase rolls next to you, catching just a little at the bumpy texture of the sidewalk. The black truck is paused right outside the house and the driver jogs to catch up to you. You only have a carry-on suitcase and a backpack. Though you don’t travel often, you’ve helped Calum pack more than enough times to know the best ways to get tuck, roll, stuff and flatten all your needs into the smallest bag possible. It’s annoying to wait for checked baggage at times and for the few days you’ll be gone, you don’t feel the need to carry too much. 

“I can take that for you,” the driver greets, reaching out for the handle of the carry on. 

“Oh, uh, sure,” you laugh. It’s not heavy at all, but you don’t want to interrupt the kindness. With your case loaded in, you slip into the backseat and the drive passes in light conversation. The sun’s just barely peeking out from the horizon and you’re grateful that it seems to be an easy trip into the airport. 

At your gate, with your shoes still untied, you snap a picture to send to Calum. You anticipate that it’ll go unanswered for a while. But to your surprise, a couple minutes later after you tie up your laces, your phone shakes. Please don’t…trip ;D. See you soon! You hate that you snicker so much at the text. Another text comes in a minute later, Love you too, baby. Can’t wait to explore with you.

Your reply is swift, Love you too. Already plotting something! 

I expect nothing less. 

The flight is uneventful, but a little long. You’re glad for boring though, allowing you to grab a few extra hours of sleep that had been interrupted by the early morning flight. Spotting the car for you is easy--there’s a sign and flowers. Only Calum would ever do such a thing. But you sheepishly close the gap and introduce yourself as the person on the sign. 

The driver smiles, an accent painting their words, but they seem cheerful. “Welcome to Spain! I’ve heard it’s your first time.”

You nod. “If you have any suggestions on things to do, please do tell.”

“Oh, you’re very much in luck; born and raised here.” The drive to the hotel is filled with suggestions and places to check out. They’re suggesting both tourists' needs and spots that only locals are familiar with. Your notes app is littered with names, some misspelled, but you’re beyond grateful to have their perspectives. 

At the front of the hotel, you thank the driver yet again, profusely for the list. “Oh, you’re beyond welcome. Enjoy your trip!”

With your backpack, luggage and the flowers, you juggle your way into the lobby. At the front desk, you’re greeted with a bright smile and you manage to get your keys with ease. The room is cool as you’re already anticipating. The day of travel is catching up and you’re getting hungry. You look to see what’s close around you and decide to set out on foot. It’ll be a nice way to waste a little bit of time. Maybe you can scope out what’s close by to do as well. 

You find a little cafe close by--one actually being one that’s on your list from your driver. It looks cute and quaint with a patio for you to eat on. As you settle down, you snap a picture of your items. Safe and eating some food. Thanks for the flowers <3. 

Throughout the day, as you stumble across various shops and things, you snap a picture and send it to Calum. Your list of things to do with Calum narrows down a little as you realize some things are just for you really. You’ll share what you can with Calum, but you know that he’s going to want to take a much chill approach to the day than you. You’ll do a bit more with the time you do have so that way the time you have with Calum can be about enjoying each other’s company. 

As you wander, a park opens up in front of you. You’re thankful as you settle in a little deeper that you have a strong sense of direction. Perhaps, you’ll just take a minute to sit here, watch some people. It happens to be a beautiful day and you’re grateful for the good weather as you settle down near a fountain to take in the sight unfolding around you.  Most people are just passing through it seems. But you spot some sitting, chatting animatedly. 

God, I’m so jealous. Can we visit again together? Looks beautiful, Calum responds to one of the pictures from the park. 

You’d expect him to be performing at the very least by now, but you’re not entirely sure of the time difference. You’ve snuggle into the sheets, with the TV on in front of you. Definitely we can, you reply. 

As the night continues on, you can hear the streets coming alive. You’re not shocked as you’ve heard the night life goes long and hard in Spain. You’d want to join, but you have the second key to the room and you need to be here when Calum arrives. Also, the long flight today has gotten to you so you’re not sure if you’d have the energy to continue on anyway. But the TV and the laughter below start to blur together as your eyes drop and drop. 

A knock rings out through the room and you snap awake. It takes a moment to unravel yourself from the sheets, but once you do, you scurry over to the door. Through the little peephole you catch Calum’s buzzed head and swing the door open.  “Hi baby,” he smiles.

“Cal, hi,” you return, throwing yourself up into his arms. The hug is warm and tight--a feeling that follows you as you fall asleep that night wrapped in Calum’s embrace. 

The morning is a little slow--a lot of gentle kisses and soft tufts of laughter, but you finally unravel yourselves from the bed to do some light exploring before the car collects the entire group to head to the venue. In the excursions, you try to point out where you went yesterday and where you want to go tomorrow after the show. Calum’s input is relatively minimal and though you make sure he’s not being left out, he just shrugs, “Whatever you want babe.”

“You say that now, but just you wait,” you laugh after a sip of your coffee. “I don’t want a peep come tomorrow then,” you laugh. 

“Scouts honor,” Calum returns. “But, there’s something happening in the evening that the guys want to do.”

“What time?”

“Around 7 or so, I think. Think we’ll make it?”

You nod. “Absolutely, we can.”

Calum grins around his bite of fruit. “Sweet.”

The show goes off without a hitch--the whole day between soundcheck and getting ready for the show also passed with ease too. You’re excited that a few older songs make their way into the setlist, but don’t really take much of your sight off Calum. He bounces around the stage, a smile that hardly leaves his face. The sight makes your chest warm--knowing that he’s enjoying himself. It’s a feeling that you find yourself in often--a sense of calm knowing Calum’s happy with his life, knowing that you’re happy with it too. But you don’t take these moments of clarity for granted, when you get to see just how blessed your life is, you like to do your best to hold them to your chest, pressed into your ribs. 

“I like seeing you happy,” you whisper to Calum that night, straddled over his waist. Your fingers trace the ink decorating his chest. 

“I like seeing you happy too,” he whispers in return. His hands squeeze just a little at your thighs, as if to reassure you of the sentiment. 

That’s all the moment needs, content now to just trace shapes onto his body. Calum seems content too, eyes slotting close at your touch. You imagine all the adrenaline is leaving now. The effort of the shows catching back up with him. Before you can even think about it, the words are falling over your lips in a prayer, “i carry your heart with me(i carry it in/ my heart) i’m never without it(anywhere/ i go you go, my dear).”

In your mind’s eyes, you can see Calum’s handwriting in the margins of the page, an arrow detailed to the lines that are bracketed, us--you’ve seen the world even if you didn’t know it. i’ve never left home, even if i don’t know it. 

You can feel the gaze behind you, as you peer up at the sculpture in front of you. You know it’s Calum behind the cap. The glasses he’s dawned make his face look softer but somehow the lenses seem to magnify his eyes. You can see the blinks, watch his eyes widen when you catch him staring. 

“You’re supposed to be paying attention to the art,” you whisper. 

“I am,” he shrugs. “It’s an added benefit that I can touch the art I’m looking at.” Calum wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

“It’s still going to cost you and I’m not cheap,” you retort. 

“I think I’ll be able to afford the cost.”

“Just don’t misbehave in the cathedral. I do not need the saints to come alive and smite you.”

Calum laughs, taking your hand. “What a way to go am I right?”

“No, sir, you’re very much wrong,” you huff, following him into the next room. Your lunch is spent settled into a park--not the one you showed to Calum in the pictures, but thankfully there’s another good one close to where you two are. 

Under the clear skies, you and Calum work over your servings of patatas bravas. Though it did take a little translation via your phones to make sure none of the items were one you were allergic too. Your pen’s in Calum’s coat pocket, but it’s not a risk the two of you want to take. As you chase some of the sauce so it doesn’t land on your pants, you are tentative in trying to decide if you like it or not. Though with a couple more bites, you decide that it’s a dish you very much enjoy. Though with the basics, you think it would be hard to not love fried potatoes. 

Just as the sky gets a little more pinkish in hue, you and Calum find yourselves in a ride. You rest your head on Calum’s shoulder. “The guys are meeting us there right?” you ask knowing that Calum’s the one coordinating with them. 

“Yep, I think they might be there already. They were just a little closer than us.”

Your hum’s the last sound of the room before you pass thanks to the driver. As you step out you notice something floating up into the sky--yellow and red. “Is-is that a hot air balloon?” you question. 

“M-maybe,” Calum returns. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t notice that.”

“Are you taking me in a fucking hot air balloon?” you gape. It’s not fear though your heart rate does spike at the thought of being so high up in just a basket. 

“Maybe,” Calum answers again. “It’s a yes if you’re not mad.”

You laugh, taking Calum’s hand. “No, not mad. A little nervous, but do you know how cool I’ll be when I go back to work and say I’ve been in a fucking hot air balloon?”

“So cool,” Calum laughs. 

It’s scary at first, as the guide walks through the safety procedures. It’s the entire band plus you in one basket, but you’re all spread out so the weight is a bit more even. Michael let’s out a little shriek it lifts off the ground. “Holy shit,” he laughs. 

Ashton pats his back, but it’s much easier to not look directly down. If you keep your gaze and eyeline straight ahead it’s a little less scary. You don’t feel like you might plummet. Your hand is tight around Calum’s but he doesn’t complain once about the grip. His thumb soothes over the skin on the back of your hand. “Just breathe for me, baby,” he encourages. 

“If our tour manager finds out about this,” Luke laughs from the otherside of the balloon. You know there’s concerns about their safety at the forefront and also worry about the tour. But you can’t help but laugh that Luke’s first concern is about getting caught. 

“Don’t spill the beans then,” you return. 

“Touché,” Luke laughs. 

When your nerves settle, thanks to the steady climb with no issues, you can actually pick out parts of the landscape--the mountains, the city below you. It’s a gorgeous sight and your own awe bubbles up your chest in a round of laughter. “This is so insane,” you whisper to Calum. 

The corner of his eyes crinkle with his smile. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it?”

“Thanks for bringing me along.” 

“Wouldn’t want to share this with anyone else,” Calum returns, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

As you watch the expanse beneath you, the horizon that is endless, the trees that look like you could pluck them if you reached out, you’re amazed at how big the world is and how small you are in it. Yet, you don’t feel meaningless in all of the vastness. You’re still a piece of the puzzle--small, but not insignificant. You’ve got a place even if it’s just being a good human in all the madness of the world.  Even if it’s just to love and have been loved in the grand scheme of everything. 

“Look,” Calum offers softly, noticing what appears to be deer clustered together. It’s a little hard to tell from the height, but Calum would hazard that to be the animal. 

You laugh when you spot the cluster. “They look so tiny.”

“Yeah, a little bit they do.” Calum watches your pre-occupation, gaze floating around at the earth beneath you. With the tiny distraction, he reaches into his pocket and digs out the little box. His hands tremble just a little. But when you bring hand to your lips, he knows it’s you attempting to bring comfort. 

“Can-can you hold this for me?” Calum ask, holding out the box. 

“Yeah,” you start to answer without really thinking. But when you feel the shape and the soft texture, you look down at what it’s in your hands. This is not what you think it is. It’s not. It can’t be. 

“Holy fuck,” you hear from your side and look to spot Michael with his eyes wide. 

Calum clears his throat. “I know there’s probably a much smoother way to go about it. But I wanted to say that the time I’ve spent with you has been the most amazing. I could never conjure up someone better to spend the rest of my life with.”

Your can’t quite make Calum out with the blur of your tears until you blink and they clear. “Fuck,” you sigh out. 

Calum laughs. “Will you do the honor of letting me carry your heart with mine for the rest of our lives?” 

Time freezes, Calum swears. He waits, and waits, and the seconds feel like hours. He doesn’t think you’re going to say no. You’ve talked about getting married, knowing it’s a thing you both want. You’d even told Calum you wanted something small and intimate, but know that if Calum’s asking it would be okay to find a way to have the guys there as moral support. The conversations about marriage weren’t immediate, but they weren’t about a far off future. It was a tangible goal--though the two of you had mentioned that waiting for a quiet moment with the band would probably be for the best. So, no, Calum’s not scared you’re going to say no. He never anticipated that he’d ever shock you. 

“Scouts’ honor you’re not bullshitting me?” you ask, a small lump raising in your throat. 

“Scouts’ honor I’m not bullshitting you.”

“I’m nonrefundable,” you laugh and capture his lips in a kiss. Calum laughs into the kiss, but knows it’s a yes. When you break away, Calum slips the ring--a gold band with what looks like a rope pattern etched into the metal--onto your ring finger. 

You watch the sun catch the jewelry too--a glint passing over your eye and feel a squeeze in your chest, pressing at your ribs. You reach up and kiss Calum again as the guys erupt into cheers. Even the person conducting the hot air balloon cheers as well. 

When the balloon touches down again, the guys rush you and Calum in a group hug, laughing. “I swear he wasn’t going to do it. I thought he was going to wait for dinner later,” Ashton giggles. “Swear I was going to have to kick him in the ass to do it.”

You laugh, but when you look over to Calum you can see the sort of toll that asking too. You wind your arm around his waist. “Worried?”

“I was so scared I’d drop the ring from the balloon,” Calum admits with a laugh. 

“Oh, that would’ve been awful, but I would’ve still said yes.”

“Oh, you didn’t even say yes,” Calum howls. “You said, ‘I’m nonrefundable.’”

“Basically the same thing,” you laugh. “I mean at least from me, it is. But you didn’t drop the ring. It’s a win-win.”

“Imagine when you go back to work and you tell them about the hot air balloon and a proposal. You’ll be the coolest one in the office for at least three months.”

“Six months,” Michael tosses in.

You nod at the correction. “That part. Thank you, Calum. Couldn’t have asked for a better trip to Spain with my now future husband.”

Calum giggles. “Husband has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Oh, absolutely it does.”

[irwinsblender]

reassurance

A/N: hi everyone!! this is my first fanfic that i’m posting on here and the first ever oneshot that i’ve written! as it’s coming up to christmas I decided to write a festive themed oneshot as my first post! i hope you enjoy :)

pairing: ashton x reader

summary: reader has worries about meeting ashton’s family in person for the first time

warnings: a small amount of anxiety

word count: 1k

✩ ✩ ✩

Usually, you were always excited for the Christmas season. Celebrating with loved ones and giving out gifts had always been your favourite thing to do.

This year was slightly different.

Ashton had suggested spending Christmas in Australia with his family this year. After many video calls had gone well with them, he assumed it wouldn’t be a big deal for you. Of course, it wasn’t at first. You were over the moon about getting to go to his home country for the first time.

With your flight there coming up in a few days time, you’d both been packing your bags in preparation. Including any gifts that had been bought for his family.

When you decided on taking a break from packing, Ashton offered to pick up some food. Expecting you to be ready to eat once he returned. Instead, he found you sitting out on his back porch, staring out at the darkening sky above.

He considered leaving you to your thoughts, thinking that you’d been okay all day. Something inside him told him that he couldn’t leave you alone. Something was wrong.

The back door opening caught your attention, glancing back to see Ashton walking outside. You sighed, leaning your head against the back of the chair you were sat on. He joined you, sitting down, waiting until you were ready to talk.

You cuddled into Ashton’s side, slipping your arms around his torso with your head against his shoulder. His arm draped around your shoulders.

“Everything okay, baby?” Ashton asked.

You shrugged, not sure how to tell him that you were freaking out about meeting his family in person for the first time.

“Is it about Australia?” He tried to answer for you if you didn’t want to speak. You nodded. “You’re worried for the flight? I know you’re concerned about how long it’ll be.”

“No, it’s not that,” you closed your eyes, trying to figure out how to explain your feelings. “I’m anxious… about meeting your family.”

“Oh,” he said. Not expecting you to say that. “You’ve been alright talking to them on our calls though, haven’t you?”

“This is different though, a lot different,” you sat up again, crossing your legs in front of you as you faced Ashton. “It’s not talking to them through a screen this time, I’ll be seeing your mum, your siblings, your grandparents, it’s a lot, Ash.”

With the way your voice almost broke at the end, Ashton couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen a hint of your anxiety to meet them sooner. You’d talked many times since agreeing, and none of those times had you expressed how worried you were becoming.

“You’re good at talking to people you haven’t met before,” Ashton tried to remind you. “You were fine talking with the guys the first time you met them.”

You looked away from Ashton after he said that, seeing the sun getting lower and lower. With how you were sat, Ashton moved to rest his hand on your knee, caressing his thumb back and fourth to comfort you.

“I’m not worried about talking to them,” you finally admitted. “I’m worried that they won’t like me.”

“Baby…” Ashton looked at you with a sad expression, the same way he always looked when you said things like that. “They like you already, they’ve seen the way you are on call, or when we’ve posted together.”

“How can you say that when they haven’t met me? Yes, we’ve talked, but over a video call.” You slouched in your seat, running one hand frustratedly through your hair. “I’m different in person than over the phone, you know that better than anyone. I’m quiet if someone calls me, but I can be the loudest person in the room when I hang out with our friends.”

“You’re my girlfriend, they’ll like you, baby.”

“just because I’m your girlfriend doesn’t mean they’ll like me.” You replied stubbornly.

Ashton figured he’d have to take a different approach to how you were thinking. He moved to face you more, patting his lap for you to sit on, which you could never say no to. Now sat comfortably with your hands in his, he continued talking.

“They haven’t chosen whether to like you or not depending on if you’re quiet in one setting or loud in another,” he placed his hands on your waist, rubbing up and down softly. “They liked you even before they saw your face. They liked you as soon as they realised how happy you make me. All they’re worried about is that you care for me and love me.”

You nodded, listening to what he said to you. What he was saying was true in every sense. Your parents were the same with him. As long as you’re happy, and as long as he takes care of you, they couldn’t not like him.

“and you do care for me. Every day you care for me, and love me, I feel it every second we’re together.” He cupped your cheek in his palm as you leaned into his grip. “They like you because I’ve told them about the real you, the you that I fell in love with, the you that I want to be with forever.”

“What if I mess up or say something wrong as soon as we get there?”

“I’ll be there to jump in,” He reassured. “If you get too anxious, I’ll start talking. If you aren’t sure what to say, I’ll talk for you. Until you’re more comfortable with my family I’m more than happy to do whatever you need to feel okay.”

You took a breath as you nodded at him. Feeling slightly better about this whole situation. All you needed was a little reassurance from Ashton, and that’s exactly what you got.

“I love you, you know that right?” You chuckled softly.

“And I love you,” Ashton leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. “You’ll talk to me next time you have any worries?”

“Yea, I will.” You promised, looping your arms around his neck as he hugged you closer to him.

For now, everything had turned out okay in the end. You’d admitted how you felt, Ashton understood and didn’t mind at all. He was going to suggest going inside when you spoke again.

“What if your sister doesn’t like me?” You asked.

“Don’t give me that! You two are practically best friends already.” Ashton laughed. “Now, come on, we should eat before the food’s completely cold.”

✩ ✩ ✩

[wildflowerirwin]

Ashton really went from lesbian farmer to Goat Dad™️