#Ashton Irwin imagine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunshine-daisies-library · 10 months ago

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starry eyed lies | ashton irwin x pop star!reader

author's note: had been cooking this one for a while, might be really sloppy bc i had zero time to work on it lol

summary: as a publicity stunt to boost the popularity of five seconds of summer, ashton is forced to fake date you, a rising pop star that has stolen the hearts of listeners around the world.

warnings: fighting, social media, cyber-bullying?, swearing, mentions of weed, fake dating trope, Ashton is labeled a "bad boy" lol, angst

word count: 11.0k

It was supposed to be a simple “fix-all.” Following the tour for Sounds Good Feels Good, the boys were running on a high. Their names were known all over the world, and they were loved by all girls for not only their music but their looks, too. But with a running high, things must come to an end, as the boys began to falter on their positive fame streak. From negative articles to drama tabloids being released about them, the boys were torn apart by critics and haters alike for their rock star-bad boy attitude. Wherever they made a mistake -one drink too many or ending up in another drama with other celebrities- the press was right there to pick them and prod them where it hurt. The boys’ hands were tied, and it looked like it was the end for their band as they knew it.

“I’m really at a loss here,” their publicity manager sighed, holding a news article in her hand. On the headlines it stated “Aussie Punk Rock Boys Strike Again: Another Party Gone Wrong.” Depicted in the photo were Luke and Ashton’s headshots taken by the L.A.P.D. It was yet another public disturbance report with additional fines allotted because they were under the influence. On top of that, Luke was still underage and not allowed to drink.

“I mean, really,” she pressed, tossing the paper onto the coffee table. “Another disturbance report? I thought I told you guys to cut down on parties and alcohol. What were you thinking?”

And to be completely honest, they weren’t thinking. With press on their backs and paparazzi following them everywhere they went, the boys felt completely constricted. Stress was building up in their systems and they lacked an older figure -someone more knowledgeable in the music industry- to guide them through their early onset of fame. One mistake after the other just egged each other on, leaving them feeling hopeless and self-destructive. It got to a point where Ashton considered doing one last big stunt to end his career entirely. At least then he’d finally get to go back home and away from the drama.

But he couldn’t do that to his boys. His best friends he more so considered brothers had dreamed of moving to L.A. and making music for everyone to hear. Hell, it was his dream, too. He couldn’t possibly throw all of that away for his own selfish desires. Ashton still had to admit that he was getting tired of constantly being under the spotlight with little reward from it.

“I’m sorry Manuela,” Luke said, hanging his head low. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“I hope I can count on you guys when you say that,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Because there’s only so much I can do on my end to get you guys out of the hole you put yourselves into.”

Michael leaned over his knees, determined to make things right. “Tell us what we can do,” Michael insisted. “We can clean ourselves up, we swear. We promised to take this break as a time to fix ourselves and really focus on our music.”

“See, that’s the thing,” Manuela pointed out. “Taking a break is the perfect opportunity to get out of the spotlight and focus on bettering yourselves. But, completely escaping the press and media will make you guys fade out of the music industry. So we have to find an even balance between the two.”

“How?” Calum asked curiously. A frown rested on his tired face. Anyone could tell the bad press was getting to him. It was getting to all of them. “Everyone practically hates us.”

Manuela grabbed the remote from the table and turned on the TV, connected to her computer. “That’s where we come in,” she started, sharing her screen to the boys. “What we need is a fresh face that’s receiving positive feedback to get you guys on everyone’s good side again.” She flicked through meaningless graphs and percentages of social media engagement and views on YouTube for their tour diaries and music videos. Ashton winced at the downward trend for each graph. “My team’s first option was One Direction. But considering the break they decided to go on, it’s obviously not a viable choice anymore.”

“So who do you have in mind?” Ashton spoke up, flicking his hand up to ask his question.

Their publicity manager clicked the remote to change slides. On the screen was a beautiful girl, smiling at the paparazzi. You looked shy, definitely new to the L.A. music scene but confident nonetheless.

“Woah, y/n l/n?” Michael awed. “I’ve listened to her music before. She’s sick.”

“And also America’s new pop princess,” Manuela informed them. “After touring with Taylor Swift as her opening act for the 1989 tour, she’s gained considerable popularity. She’s just moved to L.A. and records at the studio a couple blocks down. She’s new to the industry, but she’s promising.” Manuela switched off the TV and turned to the boys. “And she’s probably your only option.”

“Hold on,” Ashton said. He was struggling to wrap his head around this. “What do you want us to do with her? Record a song with her? Not to be rude or anything, but her music genre doesn’t mix well with our type of stuff, and I don’t feel like writing lovey-dovey shit.”

Manuela chuckled at his immediate disgust at the idea. “No, we weren’t thinking that,” she reassured him. “For now, at least. What we need is a good influence in your lives for the public to see. Someone like y/n.”

“So what now?” Ashton raised an eyebrow. “We just knock on her door and become best friends?”

“Ash,” Calum scolded him, smacking his knee. “Be nice. y/n and I are mutuals on social media and she’s had nothing but nice things to say about us.”

Manuela snapped her fingers. “Exactly,” she agreed. “Calum and Michael are already acquainted with her. We need a bigger step to bring you guys into the limelight.” The older woman turned to Ashton, ironically the one member that was most against this whole ploy. “We need you to date y/n.”

The four boys let out shouts of differing emotions. Michael was shocked, Calum was confused, Luke was jealous, and Ashton was no doubt opposed.

“Why him!” Luke whined. “He doesn’t want to do it, let me! I’ll gladly date her.”

Manuela shook her head, adamant on her decision. “It’s gotta be Ashton, I’m afraid,” she said. “His “bad boy” persona is the most detrimental to your overall image. He’s got to be the one. Not to mention, y/n requested him specifically.”

“Oh great,” Ashton groaned, voice dripping in sarcasm. “The plan is to sell me off as some pop star’s boy toy? How come she’s in on it and I have no choice?”

“That’s not the plan,” Manuela told him firmly. “It was created in agreement between her team and yours. She needs all the publicity she can get to boost her fame and, well, you guys are aware of your own situation. It’s all for show, Ashton. All we ask is a few dates in public and even a kiss or two for the press.”

Michael snickered. “He won’t have a problem with that,” he muttered under his breath.

“But,” Manuela cut the boy off. “We’re not asking you to marry her. It’s just a few months and then an amicable split. She’s going on tour at the end of the year, and you boys are going on your writing retreat. By then, both of you will be able to part ways and your relationship will be a thing of the past. She gets the publicity, your reputation gets fixed. It’s a win-win situation.”

“Not for me,” Ashton fought back. He wanted nothing to do with this. Hell, he didn’t want anything to do with the band anymore. Each night, he plotted excessive plans to escape his prison called L.A. and fly back to Sydney to be with his family. He was sick of the lights, the glamor, the fame.

He glanced back at his friends. His heart clenched at the dark bags under Calum’s eyes, and Michael’s uncharacteristically extra pale complexion from the lack of sleep. Anxiety had riddled the entire band, and it was clear on Luke’s hands where he had been picking at his fingertips. They were a wreck, and Manuela made it seem like he was their last hope. If he said no, they could pack up their things and go home. He’d get what he wanted all along. But Ashton couldn’t let go of the sparkling looks in their eyes when they received word from One Direction that they wanted them to open up for their concerts. He saw hope in their futures, saw something bigger in store for them. In some way, Ashton could still see that innocence in their eyes, blocked slightly by their stress and nerves. He was their last chance to bring that optimism back.

“I’ll do it,” he gave in. The boys let out whoops of joy, tackling Ashton into a hug. Ashton was frustrated beyond belief, but he faked a smile just to see his boys get their spark back.

–

Ashton was immediately regretting his decision the moment he stepped foot into the restaurant. The restaurant was too expensive for his taste, the kind of eatery that sold mediocre food primarily for you to post on social media for your “friends” to envy you. If this place was your idea as Manuela mentioned, it was only a mere insight of your personality. And without even meeting you yet, Ashton was beginning to loathe you.

The musician checked his watch again, keeping his head down and away from any prying eyes. You were ten minutes late, and if you kept this up, Ashton predicted you wouldn’t even show up. Ashton swore under his breath, growing more and more annoyed by you. He never should have agreed to this plan.

Suddenly, you came bursting through the door. Your eyes peered around the store before finding Ashton’s, immediately heading to the table he had saved. Ashton fought the urge to roll his eyes at your lack of sunglasses or hoodie. It was like you were begging for attention. Which, now he thought, you probably were.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” you apologized profusely, setting your bag on the ground and pulling out your notebook. A waitress immediately went to your table to take your orders. Ashton had only wanted water, but you ordered one milkshake and a side of cannolis. “Traffic was terrible, as per usual in L.A. I suppose. And then my publicity manager asked me to get my hair down for today, then she scheduled a nail appointment-” You took a deep breath, running out of air from talking so quickly. “I feel like a dress up doll,” you joked, giving the Aussie a sheepish smile.

Ashton, however, was not amused. He barely returned your smile, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Whatever,” he murmured. “Let’s just pretend to look happy when the press gets here. We were supposed to have a ten minute prep time but since you decided to be late-”

“I didn’t decide to be late-” you fought back incredulously.

“We only have three minutes max to plan something good for the press to take a picture of,” Ashton finished, sending a glare your way for interrupting him halfway.

You huffed, deep in thought before concocting something paparazzi worthy. “Just follow my lead, okay?” you said, watching a swarm of paparazzi approach the restaurant. The waitress set down your order and was about to dash off when you asked for two straws.

Ashton raised an eyebrow at your idea, not exactly following along. You stuck the two straws into the glass, taking a healthy sip from it. You let out a moan of delight, smiling to yourself at the taste. Ashton fought the urge to chuckle at your almost innocent-like demeanor. He coughed to cover up his laugh, still stubborn enough to maintain his grudge against your tardiness.

You took the paper wrapping of one straw and glanced up at the drummed in front of you. Tying the wrapper together, you raised the knot up. “Tug the other side,” you instructed.

Ashton gave you a pointed look but pulled the wrapper nonetheless, pulling until the paper gave way and snapped in half. The knot remained on your end, making you cheer in victory.

“I still don’t understand what the hell you’re doing,” he grumbled.

You ignored him, closing your eyes and whispering to yourself. Ashton leaned back, not fighting back an eye roll. “Great,” he muttered. “I’m on a date with a weirdo.” How was this supposed to get the band good publicity?

Opening your eyes again, you set the wrapper down. “I was just making a wish,” you explained as if it was the most obvious thing. “You never did that before? Tie a knot in the straw wrapper, pull, and whoever gets the knot gets to make a wish.”

“That’s,” Ashton took a deep breath. “The biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard in my life.”

You scoffed playfully, cocking your head to get a good look at the paparazzi. More photographers approached the windows, taking hundreds of photos of the two of you. “Try smiling more,” you told him. “Maybe people wouldn’t crown you with the “bad boy of the band” title if you did.”

“I’m not the bad boy of the band,” Ashton retorted, smiling nonetheless. It was a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it satisfied the press who started flashing their cameras more frequently at the sight of it.

Snorting, you took his hand and weaved your fingers together as you took another sip of your -now shared- milkshake. You let out a quiet giggle despite no one saying anything funny.

“You’re terrible at this,” Ashton deadpanned.

“I’ve seen people do this in movies,” you responded, shaking your head as if he said something unbelievable.

“Doesn’t mean it’s a good idea,” he said back, responding to your head shake with a chuckle.

You hummed, turning away and muttering under your breath, “Look who’s talking.”

Ashton couldn’t help but be amused by your clever comebacks. He never expected you to be able to keep up with his sarcastic comments. But here you were, dishing them out faster than he can create one.

“Anyways,” you continued breezily. “You’re so the bad boy of the band.”

“What makes you say that?” he asked, readjusting his position in his chair to prepare himself for whatever response you’d curated.

You took a pause to collect your thoughts. You took a bite of your cannoli as you thought to yourself. “First off,” you swallowed the remaining bits of the pastry. “In your first album, you’re the only one looking away from the camera frowning. Luke’s looking away, but at least he’s smirking a little bit. That’s big bad boy energy. And the bandana? Come on, you’re trying so hard to be edgy but I see your smile behind the drums.”

Ashton rolled his eyes for the millionth time that day. “Good to know you’ve done your research.”

“I have to get to know my new fake boyfriend,” you waved him off jokingly. “What am I supposed to do? Go into this blind? Surely you’ve done some research about me.”

The Australian musician hesitated to respond. “I may have skimmed the binder?” he responded, a little bit embarrassed. He didn’t expect to have to know everything about you and your career.

You squeeze his hand, reminding him you were still intertwined. “It’s okay,” you assured him. “We’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other later.”

You both turned to the windows and noticed the swarm of photographers only grew in size, all of them in huddles behind cars. “You think we gave them enough to look at?” you asked. Not waiting for a response, you placed a couple bills on the table and pulled Ashton up with you.

“Where are we going?” Ashton questioned as you both braved the outdoors, instantly getting bombarded by the paparazzi. Taking on a protective boyfriend role, Ashton wrapped an arm around your shoulders and lent you his sunglasses to wear.

“Don’t worry!” you said, raising your voice a bit due to the loud calls of interviewers calling out to them. “I know a place!”

You sprinted down the street and took a sharp right, tugging Ashton along with you. Impressively enough, you were fast enough to lose the press. Soon enough, you found the place you were looking for and dove in.

The drummer blinked a couple times, trying to regain his sight after the millions of flashes nearly blinded him. Once his vision turned back to normal, he looked around the room to see a relatively empty restaurant. The lights were dim and gave the feel of a speakeasy but also had sweet handmade decorations adorning the walls. The place was endearing to him, somehow, because of how unabashedly unique it was.

You directed Ashton to your favorite table in the back corner while you went up to the counter to order for the both of them. By the time Ashton had gathered his bearings in his seat, you returned with a tray full of food.

“Welcome to the “Quilted Corner,” you introduced him to the cafe. “Everyone’s favorite eatery in the darkest corner of Los Angeles. And by everybody I mean probably just me and five other people.”

Ashton nodded dubiously, understanding the unique name for the place once he got a good look at the grandma-esque decorations.

“And what do you have in your tray of horrors?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at the assorted foods.

You began to divide the food between the two of you, the mountain of greasy foods slowly turning into a valley and then nothing at all.

“I’m going to change your goddamn life, Irwin,” you declared, taking a napkin and wiping your hands with it. “This is the order Granny Stevenson -the owner- recommended to me when I first came here. I was lost in the city looking for a place to duck and cover from the paparazzi and came across this lovely place.”

You gestured to the spread of foods. “This is the “homesick cure,”” you told him. “It consisted of two double cheeseburgers, a side of fries, and a milkshake. All completed with Granny Stevenson’s special sauce.”

“And a heart attack,” Ashton deadpanned.

You ignored his statement. “This place is really special to me,” you confessed. “It actually cured my homesickness and Granny Stevenson is a grandma-away-from-home to me. This place is where I go to write songs or just get away from it all.”

Ashton poked at his order, a thin film of oil coating his fingertips. “I don’t see the inspiration factor here,” he said, his nose scrunched up. “It just looks like another fast food place in America.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, sad mis-fed rockstar,” you said with a smirk. You pointed at the one last item you didn’t mention. “Behold the Grandpa Stevenson special.” You held up the dish and smelled it deeply. “A blueberry cheesecake made in-house with all the love this place can put into it. Name a place that sells that kinda love, Ashton.”

“I’m pretty sure Burger King sold that at one point in a mall food court,” he snipped back.

You narrowed your eyes at the pessimistic drummer. “Not sold with love,” you reminded him. “Besides, they actually make this stuff here. No processed shit, only love.”

Ashton scoffed, turning his head away from the table. Love. What a load of bullshit. If you were gullible enough to buy into the “love” this restaurant sold you, you definitely wouldn’t make it in the cut throat music industry. You were too innocent. It was only a matter of time until those producers and media companies tear you apart like they did with him and the band.

Despite his negative attitude, he took a fork and tried a piece of the cheesecake. The light dessert just about melted on his tongue, the flavors of cream, blueberry, and cinnamon dancing along his tongue. It was the best thing he’s ever tried.

“Told ya,” you sang, eating your own meal with a knowing smirk on your face.

Ashton feigned a look of disgust. “You didn’t tell me shit,” he grumbled. “It tastes like every other cheesecake.” That was a lie. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever tasted. Somehow, it tasted like home.

You tried to wipe your messy face with a napkin. “No one that thinks this is an average cheesecake makes that kinda face.” When Ashton didn’t understand, you sighed, preparing to make the same face. “It’s the look you get when you touch down in your hometown after an eleven hour flight. Or the face you make when you write a banger bridge for a song you’ve dedicated weeks to. Or it’s the look you get when everything makes sense in the world.”

Ashton stabbed his cheesecake and shoveled more of it into his mouth. Pure Heaven. “Whatever,” he huffed.

The two of you finished the rest of your meal in silence, aside from sighs of content from you because the food was that damn good. You finished off your milkshake, but not before picking up the straw wrapper and tying a knot, just like you did at the cafe before.

“Pull away, rockstar,” you instructed. Reluctantly, Ashton followed suit and tugged at the paper, the knot ending up on his side this time. You cheered, clasping your hands together. “It’s your turn now! Your first wish that shall be granted by the straw gods.”

Ashton shot you a look before tossing the wrapper to the side. “I don’t really care for wishes,” he stated plainly. You frowned at his negative attitude and that look alone made Ashton’s heart lurch. He instantly felt bad for the way he’s been treating you; it wasn’t your fault the press hated him. But still, he couldn’t help but put some blame on you. It was better than wallowing in self hate, he supposed.

“It’s okay,” you collected yourself. “You can save that wish for when you need it.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m not going to need it,” he responded sarcastically.

You chuckled, taking a bite out of Ashton’s cheesecake. He let out a shout of protest but you paid no attention to him. “Trust me,” you assured him. “There’s always a time when you need a wish in L.A.”

–

“She’s weird,” Ashton grumbled, readjusting the cuffs of his button up. The boys were preparing for their interview with Buzzfeed in their shared dressing room, fighting for space in front of the mirror.

It’s been a total of three months since you and Ashton started your fake relationship and the media has been eating it up. They followed the both of you everywhere you went, hiding in cars and in alleyways to get a glimpse of the so-called happy couple. You played your part well, holding his hand in public and kissing his cheek whenever you had the opportunity. From the public’s point of view, Ashton was just as taken by you as you were with him. The media fawned over his boyish grin and blush whenever you’d readjust his beanie in the winter cold.

On your end, you were genuinely falling for the boy. Behind closed doors, he was just a boy from Australia, new to the fast paced life of being a celebrity. You saw through his cold facade, slowly cracking through the walls he put up around his heart, and you had a feeling you were growing on him. He’d still quip sarcastic comments and roll his eyes, but you didn’t miss the small smile that would rest on his face when he thought you weren’t looking. As rare as his genuine smiles were, you relished those moments because it was the only times you’d see the real Ashton, not the one he’s put out for the paparazzi.

Ashton, however, was still holding out his grudge against you, albeit very weakly. His tough exterior was indeed toppling slowly. Your kind nature was just too sweet to not find you a little endearing. Ashton would never admit that you had grown on him a little, and a small part of him possibly looked forward to your weekly dates. He learned so much from you, it was as if he never wanted to stop listening to you. Not that he would tell you that, though.

“That’s all you’ve ever said about her,” Michael shot back, glancing at the mirror to check his hair one more time. “Come on, mate, it’s been three months. Surely you have something new to say about her?”

Calum agreed wholeheartedly. “Yeah, she’s come to the studio during her breaks from recording. That’s not even in your dating contract but she still does it.”

“Not to mention she gets us coffee every time,” Luke piped up. “That coffee is addictive, where does she get it?”

Ashton couldn’t help but smile at the thought. He knew you’d always stop by the Quilted Corner -no matter how far of a walk it was- to pick up some coffee. And he knew you always tried to be slick about it, but he’d always catch you tucking away a slice of blueberry cheesecake in the band’s fridge, just for him. He’d never mention it, though. He wanted to let you have your fun.

Calum let out a shout, pointing at the drummer accusingly. “Aha!” he cheered. “I knew she was growing on you!”

“What the hell are you going on about, Cal?” Ashton demanded, exasperated by his friends’ antics.

Calum continued his childish shimmy, the other boys gleefully joining in. “You got that dumb smirk on your face,” Calum smugly pointed out. “You’ve got it bad for y/n, don’t you.”

Before Ashton could respond, the director shouted, “Five minutes till shooting!” Glaring at the boys to keep them silent, Ashton made his way to the chairs in front of the camera, silently praying for this interview to be quick and over with.

“Welcome to Buzzfeed, boys,” the director’s assistant approached them with a smile. She was petite but her voice was strong and insistent. “Make sure to always look at the camera, but above all, smile and don’t look down. The viewers want to see your faces, okay?” Nodding in confirmation, the boys readied themselves for the camera as the assistant swiftly moved out of the way.

“Yeah Ash, don’t doze off dreaming of y/n,” Luke snickered into his ear, making the other boys chuckle along with him -aside from Ashton, of course.

–

The interview went as well as one could expect. The questions about the boys’ past were still continuously brought up but the boys answered the questions with grace they could only credit to Manuela. Luckily enough, the interviewer seemed to enjoy their responses, noting a significant maturity in the boys. They seemed to have gotten over their party phase and turned into serious musicians during their break from tours and parties.

“Final question is for Ashton,” the interviewer shuffled through their papers. “Sources have spotted you and new singer songwriter y/n l/n around L.A. quite a bit following the end of the North American 1989 tour. Now, you both have confirmed your relationship and made it very clear you two are together. Has y/n been an influence in the reshaping of your image in the media?”

Ashton bit the inside of his cheek. Just remember what Manuela rehearsed with you, he thought.

“Yeah, y/n’s been great,” he answered, trying to not sound as monotone as he did during his practice runs. “She’s been such a great influence to me and the boys, always keeping a positive outlook on things. I learn a lot from her, and I’d like to think she’s learned quite a bit from me, too.”

“Like jumping into the neighbor’s pool at midnight?” the interviewer jested, referencing the one time Ashton had drunkenly trespassed his neighbor’s home while they were on vacation.

Ashton tried not to cringe at that one memory, heavily wanting to keep that part of him in the past. “Definitely not that,” he laughed awkwardly. “But definitely in a sense of navigating newly received fame and things like that.”

“That’s great to hear,” they hummed. “Should we be expecting anything from you guys? Maybe a collaboration of some sort?”

The drummed shrugged his shoulders honestly. “It’s all up to her,” he responded. “We’re still taking a break from touring, but we do have an album in the works. Writing music with her is definitely on the table, for sure.”

Ashton wasn’t sure what word vomit was spewing from his lips. Last time he checked, it wasn’t up to you whether or not you wanted to collab with the boys (you were clearly apprehensive about invading his space), he didn’t want to write music with her (possibly due to the fact that the last time you had a joint writing session, he was stuck staring at you curled up on the other side of the couch; you were just mesmerizing but he’d never admit that aloud), and he hated lovey dovey shit (because he hated the warm feeling brewing in his stomach whenever you’d smile or laugh at his jokes). But it wasn’t like he liked you, right? He had to focus on his career, his boys, his life. Not a relationship that’s destined for failure no doubt because of the media.

“I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for you guys, thank you so much for coming to our studio today!” The interviewer finished off the closing statements for their interview while Ashton was left inside his head.

Truth be told, he was conflicted. He had, in fact, gotten significantly closer with you, closer than he’d expected to be at the very least. He still tried to be closed off, tried to push you away from him so he wouldn’t get attached and heartbroken in the end. You just made it so damn difficult.

“Nice responses, Ash,” Michael patted his shoulder as they gathered their things in their dressing room. “Really downplayed how much you liked her there.”

Ashton raised an eyebrow while picking up his phone from the side table. He was stupid enough to not look at the text messages. Particularly the ones from you that stated you were on your way to the studio for your own interview.

“What are you saying, Mike?” Ashton asked tiredly, tired of the relentless teasing and questions he’s gotten about you all afternoon.

“Mike’s saying that we know you’re in so deep with her,” Luke spoke up from the back as he slipped on his jacket. “Like, L-word close with her.”

Love? Why the hell would he love you? This was all a fake set up for their careers, why didn’t they get that?

“Can you guys knock it off?” Ashton snapped, finally raising his voice. “I don’t like y/n and I never will. I don’t even like her as a friend. She’s obnoxious, annoying, and so unbelievably difficult to work with; the two of us will never work out. And thank God for that because if I have to spend more than 10 months with her to save your asses’ careers, I’m leaving the fucking band.”

“Ash-” Calum said meekly.

“No!” he cut him off harshly. “I’m sick of being pushed around like a fucking doll for publicity. The band was doomed from the start because the press won’t leave us the fuck alone. And using y/n as a last Hail Mary is as stupid as it is useless. She’s going to be nothing more than a washed up young celebrity like the rest of us and fade to the past.”

“Ash!” Michael stopped him. “That’s enough, we get it.”

Ashton didn’t piece together their hastiness until it was too late. He turned around to see you standing before them. He didn’t even hear the door open. Your eyes were welling up as your mouth was slightly opened by his outburst.

“Hi guys,” you weakly greeted them.

Ashton took a step forward, freezing when he saw you stagger back. “y/n,” he whispered, unable to know where to start with his apology.

“I have an interview in ten minutes,” you informed them quickly. “I’ll see you around later, yeah?”

You seemed to have taken that as final as you pushed them out of the dressing room and closed the door shut. You didn’t move from the door until you heard all of their footsteps trail off and out of the studio. You let out a shaky breath you didn’t even know you were holding in as you hang your head low. And to think you thought he actually might have liked you, too.

A knock interrupted your thoughts. “Ms. l/n?” a voice spoke up. “My name’s Ryan and my buddy Shane and I wanted to know if–”

“Sorry,” you said, opening the door sheepishly. You hoped your face wasn’t giving away your embarrassment and hurt you were experiencing. “I-um, I think I need to be alone for a sec.”

“Oh!” the taller one exclaimed. “To call Ashton? I think I saw him walk that way.”

You bit your lip, nodding painfully slow. “Yeah,” you croaked. “Thanks, I’ll be headed there soon.”

You didn’t leave any time for debate or questions as you pushed through the pair and walked in the opposite direction, straight to the bathroom. The two men glanced at each other in concern.

“What’s up with her?” Shane asked.

Ryan only shrugged his shoulders. “I guess it’ll remain unsolved,” he mused wisely.

“That’ll be a great name for a show one day!”

“I know right?”

–

You were lucky that there was enough conflict in both of your schedules to postpone your date to three weeks after the interview. To say you were anxious was an understatement. You picked at your fingernails as you waited for Ashton to arrive at the park.

You were conflicted with the entire agreement. A part of you wanted to end the agreement, rip the contract into shreds. Ashton was right, wasn’t he? This plan was useless, and your fifteen minutes of fame were almost up. It was only a matter of time until you were no longer relevant. Then what would you do? You’d have to go back home and start over, and maybe that’s better than what you had for yourself now: a fake relationship for attention.

But at the same time, you had fallen hard for Ashton. Behind his rough exterior was a shy musician that was passionate in what he did. He loved music, but loved his friends and family more. You admired him for that, realizing that he only had a harsh image because he was protective of who he loved. You only wished that he saved that part of himself for you, too.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” a soft voice spoke behind you.

You turned around on your bench to see Ashton standing, hands sheepishly in his pockets. His cheeks were red from the cold as his eyes were trained on the ground.

“Of course I did,” you responded somewhat brusquely. “It’s part of the contract, afterall.”

Ashton scoffed, making you raise an eyebrow irritatedly. You had every right to be a bitch to him. He was the one bad mouthing you in the first place. Your mixed emotions had sat in your stomach for the past few weeks. Your anger was winning out the heartsick feeling.

“What are you scoffing about, rockstar?” you quipped, disgust filling your tone instead of affection as it usually was in the nickname you gave him. “I signed that paper as much as you did.”

“It wasn’t like it was my fucking idea,” he shot back, frustration fueling his voice. He pulled at his hair and laughed, but there was no humor behind it. “In case you forgot, I was forced into this bullshit! And to think I was actually going to apologize to you.”

“About which part?” you shouted back sarcastically. “The part where you called me obnoxious and annoying? Or how about when you couldn’t stand to spend any more time with me or else you’d quit the band? Oh I know! How about when you called me a washed up celebrity? Take your pick, rockstar! You’ve got plenty to choose from!”

“Don’t fucking call me that!” he raised his voice higher than he ever had before. “God, I’m fucking sick of you and your “holier than thou” bullshit! You’re only in this shit for the money and the fame. I’m tired of playing this game and being a fucking plot device to launch your career! Maybe if you actually had substance instead of putting up the “innocent girl from a small town” act, people would like you more! Because Jesus fuck I don’t!”

What Ashton failed to realize was that your ten minute grace period between meeting and the paparazzi coming was up. The photographers circled around you like predators stalking their prey, starving for anything to satisfy their appetites. You were too caught up in your argument, too, oblivious to the prying eyes of the public.

“Don’t act like you’re so perfect,” you spat. “You want my honest opinion about you? I think you’re nothing but a stuck up member of a boyband who’s pissy because the attention’s no longer on him anymore. Face it, Ashton! You’re just like everybody else here! Self-centered, fucked up, and ignorant as all hell. Maybe that’s why the media fucking hates you! It’s not because they twist your actions, you just are a fucking terrible person and it’s about time you realized that!”

Ashton silently seethed, opening and closing his fists as he tried to find the right words to say. “You really think that?” he asked in a low tone. He wasn’t really sure if he wanted to hear your response. Despite his harsh words, he truly craved your validation and he knew that he wasn’t going to hear what he wanted.

“Yes,” you swallowed. “I do.” Silence filled the cold air as you stood at a standstill. The air filled your lungs like icy needles, not yet thawed for the seasonal change that was yet to come. It was like a test between the two of you. Who was going to be the first to bite the bullet and say what’s been on your minds?

You made your decision. “Let’s end this,” you said, voice wavering. “Let’s put the both of us out of our misery and end this once and for all. I think we both got enough of each other.”

Ashton was taken aback. He thought the same thing, but he didn’t think you’d be the one to say it. If he was being honest, he didn’t want to end it. If he could spend the rest of his life on a tightrope, teetering towards anger and frustration for eternity just to be with you, he’d do it. But he knew he was hurting you as much as you were hurting him. He knew what he had to do.

“Good,” he agreed, mustering enough strength to not cry right there. He really was losing the one good thing he had going for him. And it was all his fault. “I’ll have Manuela reach out to your manager. You can..lose my number, I guess.”

“If that’s what you want,” you told him smoothly. On the inside, you were crumbling apart.

Ashton forced a nod. “Yeah, that’s what I want.”

–

He didn’t expect things to get as bad as they did. Ashton knew the paparazzi was everywhere, he always did. But dammit, he got so lost in his anger that it slipped his mind. And the one time it did, everything went wrong.

But for the first time, the blame wasn’t on him. Not in the eyes of the media, at least.

Is America’s Sweetheart y/n l/n Actually a Monster?

Pop Princess y/n l/n rips Australian Musician Ashton Irwin Apart

End of an Era: Irwin-l/n Break Up is Messy and Unexpected

Even on Twitter, you couldn’t catch a break.

#y/nl/nisoverparty

#y/nl/nisasnake

#y/nisthebiggestbitch

#y/nl/nisOVER

On every magazine and gossip column was a picture of your encounter with Ashton at the park. Lucky for Ash, the media only got a glimpse of your rant at him and didn’t get any footage of him yelling back at you. To the public, he looked like the innocent party while you looked completely wicked.

Oh God, Ashton thought. I just ruined her life.

The weeks that followed were rough. Manuela called for a group meeting and told them that their ratings have gone through the roof. 5 Seconds of Summer were finally back on the good side of the press and were labeled as the “innocent boys from Australia” that got “led down the wrong path.” Manuela was happy that her plan had worked; 5SOS is back on track, but she was disappointed at what it cost.

“Is there anything we can do to help her?” Michael asked at the end of the meeting.

Manuela pressed her lips together. “I’m afraid not,” she sighed. “y/n’s manager cut off all ties with us. I think we got the message that she wants nothing to do with us.”

Calum checked his phone, cringing at the amount of tagged posts he was in. All of them bashing you and everything you’ve worked so hard to create.

“We have to do something,” Calum pleaded. “She’s not just a coworker; she’s a friend. She’s always been there for us, even if Ash wasn’t here, she’d come by. We can’t leave her hanging like this.”

“Ash,” Luke turned to his friend, blue eyes pleading and desperate. “Can you talk to her? Maybe we can work something out. Anything.”

Ashton stammered before he responded. What could he do? He was the very last person you’d want to see right now. He got you into this mess and painted you out to be a monster. The blame should have fully been on him. You wouldn’t have yelled at him if he didn’t push you over the limit.

“Why should it be me?” he asked. “She hates me.”

Michael scoffed at his friend, clearly upset at his poor attempt at weaseling his way out of this. “You’re joking,” he deadpanned. “She adored you. Whether you liked her or not she was your biggest supporter. When you weren’t around at the studio, she talked the world about you. You may have not liked her, but she loved you. So you have to fix this.”

“Boys, relax,” Manuela insisted. “I’m certain her publicity team has a plan set for situations like these. She’s probably going to keep quiet for a while then re-emerge into the public scene again once the public wounds have healed. So it’ll be in her best interest and yours if you keep quiet and not cause a scene. Not when the public finally has a positive outlook on you.”

“That’s so..” Luke huffed defeatedly. “Wrong.”

Manuela patted his knee comfortingly. “That’s the music industry, love.”

–

You truly fell off the face of the earth. Ashton was at a loss. After the presumed “silent break” you took, he thought you’d get back into the swing of things. Media tabloids had died down, and it seemed like the public had forgotten about your argument and moved onto the next interesting thing. But you didn’t come back. Not even to your studio, the place remained empty. You didn’t respond to his calls, all of them going straight to voicemail. Your manager only picked up her phone once, insisting he stopped calling if he knew what was best for him. Not even your friends answered his frequent dm’s.

Your instagram was dormant. The last post was of Ashton a month back, playing his guitar and smiling down at his lyric book. He didn’t even realize you took that picture until you posted it. He was a little shocked that you kept it up, considering all things, but at the same time you didn’t post anything anymore. You used to post everyday, updating everyone about your hectic life. All that was left were the photos that remained on your page. Ashton had caught himself too many times scrolling through, just to see your smiling face again. He beat himself up over the fact that his last glimpse of you in person was nothing but a broken shell of who you once were.

Ashton pushed the door open, entering the last place he thought of that you could possibly be in. The smell of the restaurant was the same as it always was, full of spices and sweets that made his mouth water. But he had to stay focused. He needed to find you and talk to you.

Behind the counter, an older couple approached him. Ashton immediately recognized them as the Stevensons, the couple you adored more than their own food. It seemed like they recognized him too once they reached the counter space.

“You must be Ashton,” the older woman said, readjusting her glasses. Her wrinkles appeared as she greeted him with a smile, a sign that she lived a life full of laughter and smiles. The kind of life you confessed you wanted desperately. “y/n has spoken so highly of you.”

Ashton ducked his head, blushing at the compliment. Even when you were gone you still managed to light up the room and make him seem like a better person than he actually was. “That’s actually why I came here,” he told them. “I was wondering if you had seen y/n come by.”

The gentleman beside Mrs. Stevenson shook his head. “Afraid not, son,” he responded. “Not for a while, actually. We were quite disheartened about that, but that girl is always so busy, isn’t she?” Ashton smiled, trying not to wince as he cringed on the inside.

“Let me make you something, honey,” Mrs. Stevenson insisted, rushing to kitchens before he could refuse.

Mr. Stevenson ushered Ashton to the booths, away from the restaurant regulars. Ashton ran his fingers through his hair, the rain soaking his brown locks. Spring was a bitch with the rain, but he knew how much you loved it. “What brings you here, son?” he asked. “You usually come with y/n. Don’t tell me she’s in any sort of trouble now, is she?”

Ashton sat down, dusting off his jeans. “Not exactly,” he answered honestly. “H-have you not heard in the gossip tabloids?”

“Oh no,” Mr. Stevenson waved his hand. “We were never one for those magazines. Sarah is always strict on rechilut.”

Ashton nodded along. “I did something wrong,” he confessed heavily. “And I hurt y/n. Not physically, but honestly it feels worse. I want to make things right, but I don’t think she even wants to talk to me.”

“That’s nonsense,” Mr. Stevenson insisted. “y/n would never cut ties with people like that. Especially you, she was very fond of you.” It seemed like everyone knew that except for Ashton himself. “y/n talked to me like I was her own grandfather. Now, all my kids are grown up and moved out of California, so they don’t come around much. I appreciated her company, and I know for a fact that you shouldn’t give up on her.”

The drummer’s shoulders slumped guiltily. “I don’t think I deserve that,” he told him. “I was awful to her. I did everything wrong. I don’t think she’d believe me if I told her I loved her all along.”

“Do you really love her?” Mr. Stevenson asked him softly.

Ashton looked up into the older man’s gray eyes. He saw so much life, so much wisdom in them. If he looked deeper, he saw himself in his eyes, the him he missed all along. “Yes,” he answered truthfully. “I really do.”

Mr. Stevenson patted his shoulder affectionately. “Then lead with that,” he advised him. “I’ve lived a long life, Ashton. And most of my life has been spent with my dear Sarah. If there’s anything I learned from that, it’s that sometimes you need to shut the hell up and let your love speak for you.”

Ashton let out a tearful chuckle at his advice. Mrs. Stevenson rushed out of the kitchen, a steaming plate in hand. The older woman set it on the table in front of him.

“I hope you don’t mind that I guessed what your homesick cure was,” she said sheepishly. “Artie said I should stop guessing but I had a gut feeling on this one. I was right for n/n, I hope I was right for you.”

Mrs. Stevenson set down the plate to reveal a healthy serving of spaghetti and a glass of water on the table. Ashton’s heart clenched at the sight. “Did I get it right, dear?”

Ashton couldn’t even respond, he just nodded wordlessly like a child on Christmas morning, eager to play with his toys. Mrs. Stevenson chuckled at his response, ruffling his hair gently like a mother would. “Eat it while it’s hot, honey,” she told him. “And I’m sorry, but it seems like someone forgot to order another package of straws. You’ll have to drink from the glass, I’m afraid.”

Artie stood up from his side of the booth, playfully rolling his eyes. “I’m on it, honey,” he responded, following closely behind his wife. Before leaving to the kitchen, he turned around and gave the boy a wink.

Left to his own devices, Ashton tucked his hand into his jacket and nearly jumped out of his seat in shock. Pulling it out, he realized it was the knotted end of the paper straw wrapper from so long ago. Turns out he really did need that wish.

“Let me make things right,” he wished in his head. “I just want one last chance to do the right thing.”

Setting it on the table, all Ashton could do was hope that whatever was out in the universe heard him.

–

Soon enough, you did emerge from the shadows of your hiatus. You were lucky to have a loyal enough fanbase to keep you afloat, and your tour was still set for that summer. You were grateful for the fans that stuck around, and the new ones that came along the way. It was a rough journey, but you tried your best to power through it to the best of your ability.

Now, you were in your dressing room at the venue you were expected to perform in, an absolute fucking wreck. You were curled up on your couch, trembling and unable to even raise your head from your chest. Sobs filled your room, but you insisted to every manager and passersby that you needed to be alone and fix it yourself.

To tell the truth, you never truly recovered from the media frenzy that took you and Ashton by storm. You knew you had every right to turn the tides on him, revealing to the world that he wasn’t the perfect saint everyone painted him out to be. But you didn’t, and no one on your publicity team was able to figure out why.

The reason was that you were still unexplainably attached to Ashton. Somehow, even though he put you in the situation where everyone started to hate you, you couldn’t help but now be able to understand why he acted the way he did. How he was overprotective of the boys and acted out of self preservation simply because of how cruel the media could be. By no means did you excuse him for putting you in that situation, but you still grasped some understanding.

The difference between you and the drummer, however, was that he had a support system: his boys. You were practically alone to deal with the mess, cornered and vulnerable.

You were shaking frantically in your room, unable to free yourself from your thoughts. Only one look at your phone caused your entire psyche to crumble. One fucking tweet about you shook your confidence. Some anonymous user critiqued your music, only attributing your success to your past “relationship” with Ashton. Those simple words broke down the walls you were just beginning to rebuild, and now you were stuck in your dressing room, thirty minutes before you were called onstage.

Meanwhile, Ashton was navigating through the maze backstage looking for you. A bouquet of your favorite flowers were in one hand, a handwritten card in the other. He figured you’d be somewhere backstage, prepping for your show. He didn’t count on you being in your dressing room since you told him in the past that you loved to watch the crowd from behind the curtains.

But to his shock, you were still in your pajamas hyperventilating on the couch. Ashton has witnessed this before; he’s experienced this before. But seeing you go through the same struggles he and his boys went through caused his heart to ache even more.

“y/n?” he called out to you. You didn’t respond, eyes still trained on the ground as your grip around your legs tightened. Ashton set his things down on the side table, instantly kneeling in front of you.

“Ashton?” you finally spoke, voice raspy and exhausted. For a split second, you thought you were actually hallucinating, envisioning the one man you needed but feared the most. But his cologne wafted into your nostrils, alerting you it was him in the flesh. “What are you-” You heaved a deep breath, choking out a sob. You could barely take the overwhelming stress towering over you like a deadly ocean wave. It was only a matter of time until it took you under and swallowed you whole.

“Love, I’m going to need you to breathe,” he instructed, his hands finding yours. In your anxious state, you were able to distract yourself from your worries at the mere touch of his calloused fingertips. It was a silent calling to you, gently beckoning you back into reality but not quite succeeding.

Ashton took your hand and pressed it against his chest, tucking it underneath his slightly unbuttoned shirt. His warm skin electrified your palm, making your heart race -not from the anxiety- but from butterflies. “Pay attention to my breathing and try to copy it, okay?”

At first, you struggled to listen to his instructions. You worked on your anxiety with your therapists over more sessions than you could count. You tried box breathing, yoga, and even journaling but nothing ever calmed your nerves, especially after the media went after you.

But suddenly, you concentrated on the slow rise and fall of Ashton’s chest. The way his chest hair tickled your palms in a way that made you want to scrunch your nose at the feeling. How his heart was beating nearly out of his chest but you could tell he was trying to minimize it so he could attend to your needs first.

You felt your Ashton.

Moments that felt like hours passed until your breathing went back to normal and your tear stained cheeks dried. Ashton kept your hand against his chest, occasionally squeezing it to bring you back to reality when you teetered back into spiraling. This time, though, he rose from the ground and sat beside you. You let him move your legs over his lap as he practically held you against him. His smell was overwhelming. You could smell his cologne and shampoo, even the faint scent of weed from off his lips. He was intoxicating. He was the drug, dangling above your head, and you were weak, enthralled, captivated, addicted.

You found yourself leaning in to kiss Ashton, a real kiss this time. No corner of the lip bullshit that the press ate up every time. You didn’t expect him to kiss you back with the same fervor as you, hand wrapping around your waist and the other behind your head. It was sloppy, wet, and all shapes of perfect that you couldn’t describe. The taste of tea and weed transferred from his lips to yours as he pulled you in deeper. You gripped his shirt in your fist, hoping in your mind to mold your body against his and disappear from the world, anything as long as you were with him. His love was your poison and, at the same time, your cure.

Reality began to sink in, making you push Ashton away forcefully and standing on your feet. He flew back into the couch, eyes wide and lips swollen. His perfectly slicked back hair was a gorgeous mess, curls gracefully falling down his face. Confusion riddled his face as he watched you curl back into yourself.

“What are you–”

“I shouldn’t have done that,” you whispered, unsure if you were saying that to him or yourself. “Why did I do that?”

Ashton stood up and reached for your hand, only for you to jerk back. “D-don’t touch me!” you exclaimed, scared of your own volume. Anxiety began to knock at your door once again, creeping in like a deadly virus into your system. “How could I be so stupid? Haven’t you put me through enough?”

You started to pace around your room, Ashton watching you move frantically back and forth until he got dizzy. You murmured to yourself not so quietly, scolding yourself for your stupidity and cursing him out for his enticing nature. All over again, Ashton was seeing you crumble.

“y/n, stop,” he ordered firmly, gripping your shoulders. You jerked to a stop, pausing to look Ashton in the eyes. You found yourself getting lost in the pool of hazel, wide eyed and entranced. “You’re going on stage in twenty minutes. Whatever’s going through your head right now, quit it. All of that can be put on pause until after the show, you hear me? And if that voice in your head brings it up while you’re out there, shut it down. What matters now is you, your music, and your fans. Fuck that voice telling you you’re anything short of great.”

In his empowering speech, you forced yourself to listen to his words, ignoring the person those words were coming from. Taking his advice, you cleared your mind of the past few months and only focused on this moment: your first concert of your North American tour.

Rushing to get ready, you scrambled around your room to prepare your hair and makeup. Ashton picked out your clothes for the concert, something simple that you absolutely adored but you paid little attention to the way your heart pounded at the thought. And in those twenty minutes, you were set for the show.

Your microphone in one hand and guitar in the other, you made your way straight to the stage. Ashton followed close behind you to ensure you didn’t misstep or forget anything. Mere inches away from the stage, you whipped your head around to meet his gaze just one more time.

“Thank you,” you whispered gratefully. “I know we haven’t talked, but thank you. Can I look for you after the show?”

Your heart shattered at the shake of his head. “I’ve got a plane to catch right after your show so I can’t come by after,” he told you remorsefully. “But if you’ll have me, I’ll be right here when you come back from tour. Maybe then we can start again, correctly this time. None of the cameras, scripts, or any of that, yeah?”

The sound of your name being chanted by the crowd was nearly deafening, but his words reached your ears and you smiled softly at him. In the corner of your eye, your stage manager pointed at her watch to inform you it was time to go up. Wordlessly, you pressed your lips one last time against his.

“Don’t be a stranger, Irwin,” you told him, turning on your heel and pushing through the curtains. The crowd shrieked and screamed at the sight of you, instantly bringing a proud grin to Ashton’s face.

This was only the beginning of something new and truly beautiful, Ashton thought to himself, hands in his pockets as he made his way to the VIP section.

–

Several months have passed since your North American and European tour and it has been almost a full year since you started your publicity stunt with Ashton. Throughout the tour, you and Ashton -and the boys, of course- kept close contact with each other, never going more than a day without a phone call or video chat. Over this period, you felt like you finally got to know the real Ashton, not bits and pieces he’d accidentally let slip when he first got to know you. This time, he was real and genuine, and that only made me love him more.

You tiredly dragged your suitcase up your apartment complex’s stairs, heaving at the ridiculous weight as you made your way down to your apartment. You didn’t expect to see a certain hazel eyed drummer standing behind the door when you unlocked it.

“Surprise,” he said sheepishly, balloons and blueberry cheesecake in hand. Tears instantly filled your eyes, you dropped your suitcase and wrapped your arms around his neck, nearly causing him to drop the dessert.

Truth be told, you weren’t expecting to see him so soon, if at all. Your journey with your mental health has been a long one, and there were plenty of ups and downs. A part of you -one you were a little ashamed of- didn’t expect him to keep to his word that he’d be here now. Despite the plenty of calls and talks you had to rekindle your relationship, that nagging voice in the back of your head kept on asking “what if?” What if he took back what he said about wanting to start over? What if it was all in your head, and he never wanted to see you again? But without fail, Ashton was there, willing to rebuild your relationship into a close-knit friendship. And now he’s here, asking to make it something more.

“You’re here,” you murmured into his chest, taking in his smell that you missed so dearly. “I didn’t think you’d come this soon. How did you even get in?”

Ashton pulled away, holding up your spare key. “Your friend gave it to me today,” he explained.

Grinning you brought him back down into a hug before settling in and opening the box of cheesecake. Taking out two forks, the two of you ate straight from the box and caught up on everything, though there wasn’t much considering how often you both talked while you were away.

“I’m really grateful you let me back in,” Ashton spoke up once the box had emptied.

You were half listening, polishing off the plate of its sweet crumbs. “You let yourself in, silly,” you snorted, not quite understanding what he meant. “You’re the one who got a hold of my apartment key.”

Ashton chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Not that,” he laughed. “I mean letting me back into your life. I still don’t think I deserve it.”

“We talked about this, Ash,” you leaned back, setting your fork down. “We both said things we didn’t mean that day. We recognized it and we worked from it. We’ve moved on, and we’re friends. I think you deserve it as much as I do.”

Ashton’s cheeks were tinged red as he tried to think of the right words to say. “I know,” he started. “But sometimes, I wish we had..more.”

“More?” you raised an eyebrow. It took another second of you watching the drummer blush in embarrassment and vulnerability before it finally clicked. “Oh.”

Ashton stood up abruptly, wiping the invisible specks of dust off his jeans. “You can forget it,” he rushed in humiliation. “I-I just couldn’t stop thinking about that night of your first concert, how it felt, how you felt- and-”

“Ashton, slow down,” you giggled, standing up, taking his hand and tugging him toward you. A small smile rested on your face. “I still think about that night, too,” you confessed honestly. “And I want that, too. Whatever it is that you want.”

The drummer looked up from your intertwined hands and into your eyes. He swore he saw stars in them. “Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked. “Again?”

You pulled him down into a kiss, your lips craving his all over again. “Yes,” you answered confidently as soon as you backed away to catch your breath. “I will be your girlfriend. Again.”

The two of you shared a laugh, enjoying the silent but welcoming comfort of each other. Standing in the middle of your kitchen, lips coated in sugar and blueberries.

“What was your wish?” Ashton asked, pulling you closer to him as he broke the s. “Back at that restaurant when we first met?”

You hummed in thought, eagerly pressing your lips against his one more time to relish the moment. “My wish was that whatever we had back then,” you whispered, letting him in on your secret. “turns into something more.”

“Well your wish came true, didn’t it?” Ashton smiled, a warm feeling bursting in his chest.

You leaned your forehead against his, eyes fluttering closed. “Yes, Ash,” you said. “Yes it did.”

please like and reblog if u enjoyed! <3

#5sos #ashton irwin x reader #5sos fic #5sos imagine #ashton irwin angst #ashton irwin #5sos fanfic #5sos fanfiction #ashton 5sos #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin imagine

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irwinsblender · 11 months ago

Text

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.”

✩ ✩ ✩

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin x reader #5sos fanfic #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin angst #christmas fanfic #5sos x reader #ashton irwin imagines #irwinsblender writes

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bartxnhood · 1 year ago

Text

you don’t go to parties | a.f.i

ashton irwin x fem!reader

summary: ashton wonders why he keeps searching for you at parties. because after all, you don’t go to parties anymore.

warnings: drinking, swearing, just the party scene

w/c: 2.4k

requests open

not proofread

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

“hey, it’s y/n. sorry, i missed your call. leave a message after the beep. bye!”

“hey, uh, it’s me, just been thinking about everything tonight and i don’t know… i just miss you so much. call me when you can. bye.”

ashton removes the phone from his ear and ends the call, followed by a long, drawn-out sigh as he stares at your contact photo.

you were standing on the harbour bridge with him, kissing his cheek. it was taken on his first tour, when the band was opening for one direction, and he had just asked you to be his girlfriend, to which you of course said yes. he was your best friend and the person you had fallen in love with years before.

you've been by his side since the beginning of the band till today. you helped him throughout his most difficult times, and he did the same for you. at one point you considered him your soulmate and imagined spending the rest of your life by his side.

that was, until the parties.

it wasn't horrible at first. you'd join him at a few parties here and there. it was fun at first but then things got out of hand. ashton would party practically every night, and the parties eventually moved to his house, where you also lived. and it was well into the morning before the nights ended. so, you'd just hide out in your bedroom or at a friend's house.

it was exhausting. you could never get anything done because your house was always filled with strangers. and you couldn’t talk to ashton about it because he was always hungover and told you he’d talk to you later.

eventually, it got to the point where you just couldn’t take it anymore. so, you left him.

ashton was a disaster. every night, he'd be out partying or at a bar, hoping to drown out the haunting thoughts of you.

his partying addiction had gotten worse since you left. he couldn't even remember what he done the previous week since he had been partying so hard that it was killing him.

sometimes he’d call you when he was blackout drunk, professing undying love for you and how he regrets everything. other nights, when he isn’t so drunk, he’d still call you and apologize for the drunk calls.

he was spiraling down a deep dark alley, and if he didn’t fix himself now, he’d never see the light again.

ashton didn’t know why he continued to party and drink so much. but, he continued without thinking about the consequences. even if he knew how bad he was while under the influence.

some nights were worse than others.

one night it got very out of hand.

it was nearing five in the morning and ashton had one too many like he usually does but tonight was different. he was angry. angry at himself for letting you slip from his hands, angry he treated you like gum on the bottom of his shoe when instead of the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

ashton sat on his sofa staring at the wall with a red solo cup in hand, occasionally looking towards the door hoping you’d walk through and come back to him. but of course, you never did, and you wouldn’t because you don’t go to parties anymore.

luke sat with his head hung, rubbing his temples. “ashton, you’ve had too much. cmon man. just go to bed and we will clean up. it’s almost five a.m”

but ashton doesn’t say anything, he just sits there and down the rest of the liquid in his cup before tossing it to the floor

“yeah, no wonder y/n left you.” ashton hears michael say under his breath which was just enough to send ashton over the edge.

now it was getting out of hand, ashton was screaming his lungs out at michael while he just stood there with his hands up, signaling he didn’t want to fight ashton.

finally luke called the one person he knew who would help. you.

“hey, y/n, i’m sorry it’s so late…well early but ash is drunk, very drunk. can you come get him? he’s causing a scene.”

"what? oh, christ. yeah, I'll be there in ten," you said as you jumped out of bed, grabbed the nearest sweater and sweatpants, and ran out of your apartment.

your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. the drive was a blur, trying to get there as quickly as possible in order to avoid another fight.

you knew most people would never do this for their ex, but you still loved him. you were still madly in love with him at the time. you listen to every message he's ever left on your phone.

your inbox was overflowing with them.

you heard every sincere confession, every drunken apology, and every sober apology.

of course, you still had feelings for him.

you never stopped.

“thank you for coming.” luke swung the door open letting you slip inside, then walked through the trashed house. “he’s in the living room” you looked through the kitchen archway to see where luke was pointing, and then you saw him.

you pushed the door open and walked across smashed cans and cups to his side. "ashton?" your voice was soft, as if you were unsure how he would react to your sudden appearance. maybe he'll lash out at you, or he'll remain mute and go away.

he raised his head, his gaze meeting yours. ashton comes to a halt from whatever nonsense he was doing, which was probably another drunken rage. was this really happening? he asks, as he stares at you in bewilderment. are you standing directly in front of him? was he dreaming?

"y/n?" he calls your name, and you question, "ash, what's going on?" and his eyes glaze over merely hearing your concern.he only blinks in response, trying to figure out the situation.

he can't believe you're at his party after swearing them off, and it's for HIM. not anywhere else but his house. he says "y/n" a few times before wrapping his arms around your stomach and tightening his grip. he couldn't let you go away again.

you just let it happen and hug him back as he sits on the sofa, saying, "hey, I'm here, it'll be okay" and attempting to calm him down. despite your best attempts, he pulls away, taking everything in.

you noticed luke about to say something, so you put your hand out to stop him, silently shaking your head.

you knew ashton was in pain, so you took him upstairs. "hey why don't we get you upstairs and into bed?" you gently held his arm, which calmed him down. he allowed you to take him upstairs and away from the party. you pull over to chat to one of the boys on the way, saying that you're going to take him to bed.

"I appreciate you calling. I'll get him settled and then return to assist you with the cleanup." you say to luke before leaving.

you help him upstairs, doing your best to keep him upright. as you led ashton to the bed, he was babbling incomprehensible words. and after completing your normal cleaning and care for him, you took a step back. anxiety and confusion consume your body. thank goodness, his luke called you.

You've read the articles about his constant parties and the drunken scenes he created. he was a mess. but it was how he was dealing with the break up. you, on the other hand, have stayed home every night, watching sad movies, weeping yourself to sleep most nights, losing your appetite, and creating excuses not to see sierra or crystal. Isolation was your only option for coping.

you begin to rub the bridge of your nose as you stand by the side of the bed, looking down at ashton, who was in and out of consciousness. your heart was beating, and you were at a loss for what to do. when ashton opens his eyes and sees this, he becomes upset once more. he’s sorry you had to go to another party for him, and he rubs his eyes before saying, "you shouldn't have come." "y’hate parties." "i had to," you say, dropping your hands. "i was worried." he could see it in your eyes that you were sincere. "you're scaring me, ash" you took a pause to attempt to calm yourself as tears began to pool in your eyes.

you try to get him to bed without confessing anything or saying anything you don't genuinely mean, knowing he's incredibly inebriated and emotional. "scaring you?" he took a deep breath as he watched you toss his shoes to the floor. "yes. you’re killing yourself. i’m not going to sit by and let you do that." maybe you were getting a little emotional right now, so you looked away to gather your thoughts and finish getting him ready for bed. if he chooses to sleep.

you left the room once he was settled for a bottle of water. he probably won't know you're gone. only luke and calum remained, clearing up the garbage from the party. they all glanced up at you, waiting for news, but you just shook your head and said nothing.

you returned, half-opening the bottle and placing it next to the bed. ashton is staring at you in awe. "you're always the one taking care of me and i never deserved it," he says. “you deserved so much better than me." you didn't let the fact that he was incredibly intoxicated and emotional get to you.

you lower your head, nibbling on the inside of your cheek. don’t let him hurt you like this, y/n. you kept thinking to yourself, he was intoxicated and didn't mean anything. you get up to leave, eager to go home and cry into your pillow about how much he misses you. he reached for your hand, carefully gripping it, and said, "stay with me." you freeze, tilt your head, and appear torn, so he adds "please? just tonight." while staring into your eyes, desperate.

so, you stayed. laying on the opposite side of ashton, you heard his breath steady assuming he was finally going to sleep. until you heard “i love you.” you had only hoped that if you were still he’d leave it alone and would just go to sleep. but he continued. “when i left that morning, i didn’t stop. i never did. you’re my whole world, and i hate the person i’ve become. i wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, but i screwed it up.” your heart was racing, picking at your nails you felt him shuffle next to you. “you were the best thing i’ve ever had and i let you go. ‘m sorry. you can hate me. i understand.” you waited a bit, but that was the last thing he said for the night.

you ended up leaving before he woke up because it was now daylight and you didn't want to be there when he did. you stood above him before leaving, and he looked so calm. naturally, you bowed down and kissed his brow softly before exiting the room. so, you were gone by eight a.m. you had a minor breakdown on the drive home, knowing that the love is still there, and seeing him so vulnerable makes your heart ache. but you kept reminding yourself that he was drunk. he most likely didn't mean half of what he stated.

right?

you had just finished your meeting the next day and were standing in your kitchen preparing a cup of coffee when you were stopped by a rhythmic knock. you walked over leaving the cup on your counter. as you answered the door, you saw ashton.

“hey.” he said, stuffing his hands into his jacket. you stepped back, then saying “why are you here?” ashton looked around, spitting a few framed pictures of the two of you which he thought was odd. he thought you hated him. he shrugged, “i just wanted to thank you for last night, and everything.” you sighed, “come in” you stepped to the side and let him enter, then closed the door behind him. “do you want some coffee?” he sat down on the sofa.

“sure.” he answered, looking around the room. you came back with a black mug and handed it to him, and took your seat across from him.

there was a moment of silence, the two of you would steal glances at each other but didn’t want to say anything, wondering how to approach the conversation waiting to be held.

his comment was abrupt. “i meant what i said, you know.” you looked up from your coffee, to meet with his eyes already looking at you. “what?” you blinked, placing the mug on the table. “last night. everything, i meant it. from me still loving you, to wanting to spend the rest of my life with you. i meant every word.” he was being sincere, he held eye contact as he spoke and didn’t break it once.

truthfully, you didn’t know what to say. the situation wasn’t ideal, and to be honest with yourself, you knew you still loved him. “ashton..” you finally spoke, followed by a long sigh and dropping your head into your hands.

“then why do you continue to do this? you’re drinking yourself to death, ash. how can i trust that you won’t do it all over again, even if i want to work this out?” ashton stands up from his spot and moves in front of you, on his knees as he holds your hands. "i get drunk to forget the color of your eyes and the way your hair falls and how soft your skin is and the way your smile makes me feel; but it seems like the alcohol can't change my memory of you." he had been waiting to tell you this for the longest, “i do it because it’s the only way i know how to cope and i know it isn’t the best way, but it’s all i know.”

ashton runs his thumb over your knuckles. you look down at his calloused hands feeling your lip quiver “and if that isn’t enough just tell me, and i’ll leave for good.”

you shake your head letting the tears fall, “ash..i just want you to stop..all this drinking isn’t good for you, i can’t just let that happen.” you say, and he nods. “i know, i know.” he hushes your tears, raising up to hug you. “i’ll do better, i promise.” he says into your hair while wiping your tears.

“how can i trust you?” you ask

“because, i love you. and i’ll be damned if i lose you again.”

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absolutewhore101 · 1 year ago

Text

Seeking Out Your Warmth

Pairing: Ashton Irwin x GN!Reader

Summary: you wake up in the middle of the night a little colder than usual, just to snuggle back up to ash

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 520

Minors DNI

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Sleeping with Ashton was like sleeping with a radiator in the bed next to you.

Hot.

The amount of heat that radiated from him couldn’t be normal, but it couldn’t have been more comforting, either.

You tended to run cold, and the need to sleep with a fan meant you usually froze to death without several pounds of blankets on top of you. Until you had Ash, of course.

Now, just your comforter was enough to keep you warm throughout the night. As long as Ashton was wrapped around you, you never woke up cold.

Not until now.

You didn’t remember the room being this cold when you fell asleep, so you weren’t entirely sure how it seemed to have dropped nearly ten degrees in the few hours you’ve been out.

You pushed backwards, attempting to burrow further into Ashton’s chest, only to find… nothing.

He wasn’t there when you moved, so you quickly looked over your shoulder.

He was still in bed, sound asleep, just a little bit farther away from you than you appreciated. You finally had the courage to glance at the clock resting on your nightstand, afraid of what you might find.

1:57 am. Fuck that.

Without another glance, you were turning over. You scooched over to Ashton, pressing yourself into his back as you wrapped your arms around his torso, nuzzling your face into the back of his neck.

He stirred slightly, gently grabbing your hand that was resting on his stomach, before letting out a deep sigh and falling right back asleep.

It took a few minutes, but eventually, you were sound asleep again.

Ashton was the first to wake up, just to realize that you weren’t touching him in any way. Thinking that you got out of bed, he looked over his shoulder to your side, only to see you curled in on yourself.

You were obviously cold - Ashton could see you shivering from where he was - so he quickly made his way over to you. He wrapped you up in his arms, feeling you let out a content sigh as you faded into sleep again.

It wasn’t even an hour later when you began to actually wake up. Now, you weren’t cuddling up to Ashton, but he was spooning you.

Your legs were tangled together, his arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you against his chest as you felt his soft breaths hit the top of your head.

You smiled.

You tipped your head back, looking up at his tired face.

“Hi, sweets.” He smiled down at you, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

You smiled against him. “Hi, angel. How long have you been up?”

He shrugged. “Not even an hour. Just been watching you.”

You looked away from him, bashfulness immediately taking over you.

“Stop it.” You mumbled.

“Never.” He said, pressing his face into your neck and playfully nipping it, causing you to let out a laugh.

“Alright, mister, it’s too early for your antics.”

He chuckled, squeezing you one last time before rolling away from you.

“Right, then. What should we have for breakfast?”

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Tell me your thoughts! Thank you for reading :)

#ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos x reader #x reader #ashton irwin x y/n #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin imagine

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morningfears · 1 year ago

Text

Second Chance

rating: pg

Summary: Ashton was your first love. It was a case of right person, wrong time. But sometimes, life gives you second chances. Warnings: None, just cute and soft. Pairing: Ashton x GN!Reader (Pretty sure GN but if you catch anything, let me know and I’ll change it to the correct pairing) Word Count: 1.5k

Though nearly six years had passed since your last first date with Ashton, it felt as if nearly no time at all had elapsed as you sat across from him. That last first date, one that also spanned an entire evening, launched a two-year relationship. It found your first love and you felt a sort of deja vu as he easily recounted a new tale from tour.

This Ashton - years older, years wiser - was simultaneously familiar and so very different. He still carried himself with an ease you found comforting, armed with a bright smile and infectious laughter, but there were more layers now. Behind those hazel eyes lingered a deeper understanding of the world, an understanding of life that hadn’t been present at twenty-three and you did nothing to hide the soft smile that lifted the corners of your mouth as he gestured wildly.

“So, did Cal ever realize it was Luke hiding his shoes or does he still think it was Michael?”

Empty coffee cups lingered on the table, long since cleared of your dinner plates, as the restaurant slowly closed around you. Hours had passed, spent lost in conversation - catching up on lost time, listening to the melodic sound of his voice - and you knew you’d have to leave soon.

Still, rather than relaying that thought, you leaned forward with a grin as you waited for his answer.

“Think he realized after a few shows,” Ashton admitted, laughing as he idly wrapped a hand around an empty cup. “Wouldn’t surprise me if he’s waiting to get him back, though. Luke’ll have forgotten all about it by the time Cal attacks.”

“You know, it’s kinda comforting to know that no matter how much things change, some things stay the same.”

Both of you had grown since you last saw one another. Your early twenties were gone, replaced by true adulthood - a career, taxes, responsibilities that sometimes seemed overwhelming - and it was evident in the conversation you’d had. There’d been discussion of family, friends and their marriages and their children; there’d been talk of work, of the inability to recover the way you used to; there’d been a whole tangent about diets and playful complaints at the fact that spicy food grew harder to stomach the older you got.

But knowing that there were still those moments of levity calmed any remaining nerves lingering in the pit of your stomach. Because as different as things were, there was still a glimpse of the Ashton you fell in love with and it made you hopeful that things might be different this time.

Ashton opened his mouth to respond, words on the tip of his tongue, but before he could speak, a soft voice popped through the bubble you’d spent most of the night in.

“Sorry,” she began, politely apologetic. “Just wanted to check in. We’re closing the kitchen so, if you’d like anything else, now is the time. And if not, I’ve got the check.”

The pair of you blinked, both surprised at the time as you spared a glance around the now empty restaurant, before you grimaced apologetically. “Sorry,” Ashton laughed, “didn’t realize how late it was. We’re good.”

“Yeah, we’ll get out of here so you guys can close. Sorry,” you repeated, following suit as Ashton stood from his seat and took the bill.

In a matter of moments, you were standing outside the restaurant, glancing back as the staff turned the sign and began closing up. It reminded you of the past, of nights when you’d close down restaurants just to spend a few extra hours together after he returned from the road, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you headed for the parking lot.

“Guess some things don’t change.” He grinned, eyes bright and glittering in the city lights as he drifted closer to you. His hand bumped yours, body bleeding warmth as tipped his head to glance at you.

“Can’t believe we spent all night sitting there.” It was a quiet observation, whispered into the wind as you wandered slowly down the sidewalk. “Felt like no time at all.”

“It was always like that with us,” he reminded you - as if you’d somehow forgotten just how easy things were for most of your relationship. “Even at the end, we could talk forever and not get tired of one another.”

“I think the accent helped back then.” Ashton rolled his eyes fondly, laughing as his hand brushed yours once more, while you ducked your head. “You’ve always been easy to talk to. You’re kinda captivating, Ash.”

It was true. Ashton had always captured your attention wholly. His voice, warm and honeyed; his way with words, always so thoughtful and intriguing; his general demeanor, easy and bright - everything about him made you want to lose yourself in him and you continued to be reminded of why you’d loved him so fiercely for so long.

“You’re one to talk, sweetheart.”

There was little you could say in response, little your brain seemed to process, so you opted for the next best thing. After a moment’s hesitation, you took Ashton’s hand in your own and laced your fingers together. From the corner of your eye, you saw his grin grow wider - beaming, even in the dim moonlight - and smiled as you drew closer to the car.

The night was coming to an end, as sad as that made you, but you could see more nights like it in your future.

Conversation tapered off into comfortable silence then, neither of you compelled to speak just for the sake of it, and it was yet another reminder of what you’d missed. Things with Ashton had always held a level of ease that no one else had compared to and it was comforting to revel in the quiet, even as you climbed into the car and an old rock song began to play.

As Ashton tapped his fingers along to the song on the radio, you took the opportunity to study him. He sat bathed in the warm glow of streetlights, side profile exactly as you remembered it. There were a few minute changes - his hair had grown a little longer, facial hair covered cheeks that had grown a bit fuller - but you were reminded of why you’d always fawned over him.

There was something magnetic about him, something bright and beautiful that drew you in and kept you tethered in his orbit. He’d always been beautiful, both physically and mentally, and you were grateful for the chance to reconnect.

However, all too soon, you found yourselves parked in the lot of your building and heading up the sidewalk to your door.

“This was nice,” you conceded, smiling as you lingered near your front door. “I missed this.” With only a split second of consideration, brain working on overdrive to rid itself of any doubt, you admitted, “I missed you.”

Ashton, whose cheeks tinted pink beneath the scruff of his facial hair in a way that made your chest ache pleasantly, smiled brightly as he nodded. “I missed you, too.” His agreement was easy, ready, as he took a tentative step closer. “I’m really glad you said yes to tonight. I was afraid you wouldn’t.”

“I never considered anything other than yes.” There’d been no real thought, no other answer you could’ve given him. Though your relationship ended way back when, Ashton had always been the one that got away. Getting a second chance was more than you could’ve asked for. “I’m really glad we bumped into each other.”

It was a moment of serendipity, a coincidence that hadn’t occurred in the years you’d spent apart, and you knew Ashton was just as happy for the chance as he nodded his agreement.

Another step closer, another smile, as Ashton seemed to weigh his words. “I didn’t know if we’d see each other again,” he admitted, voice quiet as he closed the distance between you. “I always wanted to, always thought about reaching out, but I was afraid. I’m glad the universe made the decision for us.”

Ashton lifted his hand, soft and warm as it pressed to your cheek, and leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I want to do this right this time,” he declared, voice soft and washing over you as your eyes fluttered. “I don’t want to rush and fuck it all up again.”

“No one fucked it up last time,” you reminded him, tone matching his as you gripped his bicep softly. “It was just the wrong time. Things are different now, though.”

“Second time’s the charm.” His easy agreement was all you needed to close the small space between you once more, returning your lips to his in another soft kiss.

The second chance was what you both needed, another shot at a love you’d missed so dearly, and you were glad to have gotten it. No matter what happened, you were hopeful that this time, the second time would be the charm.

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Author's Note: I dunno, man. I'm just writing while my brain will let me.

#5sos imagine #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin x you #ashton irwin x reader #5sos imagines #5sos x you #5sos x reader #ashton irwin imagines #ashton irwin fic #5sos fanfic #5sos fics #5sos fluff #v's fics

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prettyyyboyluke · 2 years ago

Text

Fuck About It Later

using my sex life for this

ashton’s throat was raw when he woke up. him and y/n were screaming at each other all night, and it didn’t help that they were both stubborn. neither of them would back down, admit their wrongs, none of it. the fight started off small to begin with, y/n finally got fed up with ashton saying that he’ll do things around the house, but then never does. so, she called him out on it, and ashton didn’t like the way her attitude was when she spoke to him. y/n was rarely threatened by ashton’s voice when they would argue, she would raise her’s just to match his. everything that ashton did, y/n mirrored back to him. his tone, his body language, even hand movements. the icing on the cake was when y/n crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at ashton when he couldn’t find anything else to say.

the rest of that night, no one spoke, the entire house was silent. even though they were both furious with each other, they still went to bed together. their legs were still tangled under the sheets, but ashton wasn’t holding y/n like he normally does. and to be frank, y/n was a little sad about it, but her pride got in the way of saying anything. ashton wanted to hold her too, but his pride too got in the way.

y/n didn’t bring up their fights the next morning, mostly because she doesn’t like to feel her feelings. she’d much rather forget it and move on, and that bothered ashton. when y/n woke up in the morning, her and ashton were on complete opposite sides of the bed. she sat up slowly, looking over at ashton facing the wall, and smiled weakly. ashton heard y/n wake up, he woke up about an hour before she did. he watched her sleep for a little bit, just listening to the small snores that came from her. when he felt her start to stir awake, he turned back over and closed his eyes so y/n would think he’s still sleeping.

y/n got out of bed, checking her phone before heading to the bathroom to shower. when ashton felt y/n get up, he waited until he heard their bathroom door shut, and got up himself. he made their bed, picked up the spare clothes that didn’t make it to the hamper, and sat back on the bed until y/n got out of the shower. he knows y/n won’t bring up their fight, he doesn’t think he will either, but he’s not letting her completely off the hook.

in the shower, y/n was thinking about what her and ashton were screaming at each other. she knows she hit places that hurt, and she regrets it, truly. she pushed it to the back of her mind, and started thinking on her plans for the day. y/n had no idea if ashton would be in their bed room when she got out of the shower. normally after they fight, he’s downstairs in his office. when she finally finished rinsing out the conditioner in her hair, she stepped out, and put a towel on. she brushed her hair and put some product in it so it could get wavy.

y/n opened the door and saw ashton sitting on their bed. it shocked her. she didn’t know what to say, or if she should say anything at all. ashton just stared at her, keeping his eye contact with her. y/n was the first to tear her eyes away, feeling her cheeks heat up. she took a deep breath before speaking, “good morning.” she walked to their closet, starting to pick out clothes for the day. ashton followed her into the closet, watching her pick out her outfit. he extended his hand out for y/n to take. y/n was hesitant, but took his hand, and followed him back into their room. he took her to the edge of the bed, making her sit. he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say anything or not.

she was holding her own hands, circling her thumbs over each other. he could hear her breath pick up when they were face to face with each other. she swallows the lump in her throat, wishing she had more than a towel on. ashton grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. he gives her forehead a lingering kiss and walks into the bathroom so can shower. y/n’s confused. she doesn’t know if she should wait until ashton’s out of the shower or if she should continue to get ready for the day. she goes back and forth in her mind before deciding on waiting until ashton’s out of the shower. she’s not taking any chances of getting in trouble.

when he walks out of the bathroom, he’s a little shocked to see y/n still sitting on the bed the way he left her. she doesn’t say anything to him, she waits for him to start talking. “c’mon, get ready. we have stuff to do today.” ashton finally says, his voice sounding raspy.

ashton and y/n ran their errands. ashton still had his hand on her thigh, and y/n still played with his fingers. all she was thinking about was their morning. she kept racking her brain about what ashton was going to do, if he was going to do anything, she had no idea. part of her wants to bring it up, but the other part of her doesn’t. there wasn’t much conversing between them. “have you asked paula how her finals went?” ashton asks, breaking the silence.

y/n looks over to ashton, his eyes still focused on the road. “yeah, she said that her stats one was easy, she feels okay about anthropology, and she still has her biology final.” y/n answers. ashton hums at her response. y/n has an uneasy feeling in her stomach that she can’t shake, so, she finally swallows her pride and begins to bring up their fight. “can we talk about-“ she begins to say but ashton cuts her off.

“no. you don’t seem to like it when we talk.” ashton says curtly. y/n knows ashton’s right, she just can’t help thinking about what happened in the morning still. “we can fuck about it later.” he says. y/n whips her head to look at ashton. he’s completely unfazed about the comment he just made. his hand starts squeezing the inside of her thigh, causing y/n’s reaction to close her legs. she relaxes them a minute after ashton softens his grip. the butterflies that were once in her stomach moved down to her pussy. she can feel the wetness in her panties begin to pool.

ashton moves his hand further up her thigh, happy that she wore a dress today, he let his pinky trace pattens dangerously close to her pussy. y/n puts her hand over ashton’s, guiding him further up her thigh. once he reaches her clothed pussy, he pushes a finger against her clit. y/n lets out a small breath, moving her hips the slightest bit against his finger. ashton keeps his eyes on the road while he moves his finger slowly against y/n’s clit. as soon as her breath begins to pick up, they pull up to their driveway. ashton moves her panties to the side, sliding his middle and ring finger between her folds. “god you’re wet,” he whispers to her.

y/n turns her head to look at ashton, her eyes are soft and her lips are in a small pout. “don’t give me that look, i have half the mind to punish you right now.” ashton says to her. he pushes his fingers into her pussy, watching as she shutters. her thighs freeze and her hands are in fists at her sides. ashton’s watching his fingers move in and out of y/n. her head leans against the head rest, and she closes her eyes. “oh, you’re not gonna cum yet. nice girls get to cum, and you doll, haven’t been very nice.” ashton says, referring to their fight.

he takes his fingers out of her pussy, licking them clean, and getting out of the car. y/n follows ashton inside quickly. ashton puts everything away that they bought before heading to their bed room. “are you scared, doll?” ashton asks once he sees her looking everywhere but at him. she shakes her head no, but they both know she’s lying. y/n wasn’t scared ofashton, she was scared about what he could do to her. “take the dress off, and sit on the bed.” he tells her.

y/n wastes no time and takes her dress off. she sits on the edge of the bed, watching ashton undress himself. he leans down to face her, leaning on his hands that are on the edge of the bed. y/n leans back, flickering her eyes between ashton’s lips and his eyes. ashton brushed her hair off her shoulders, looking down at her breasts. the dress she chose didn’t make her wear one. ashton caressed her cheek, pulling her in so her mouth could meet his. he nipped at her lips before kissing her softly and desperately. his other hand slid across her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers.

ashton pulled away, dragging his thumb against her bottom lip and letting it bounce back into place. y/n moved further up the bed so ashton could tower over her. she spread her legs for him, allowing his hips to fit between them. y/n leaned her head up to kiss ashton again, and began moving her hips into him. he groaned into the kiss and pushed his cock harder against her. y/n drags her hand slowly down ashton’s stomach until it met the spot where they were connected. she snaps the waist band of his boxers, pushing them down as far as she can.

they both break the kiss, ashton taking off his boxers along with y/n’s panties. he lets his cock slide between her folds, feeling how much wetter she was. they’re both rolling their hips into each other, whines filling the room. ashton takes his cock and pushes into y/n. her head falls back, feeling ashton stretch her walls. ashton slowly begins to move his hips once he feels y/n relax around him. she looks up at him, grabs his face, and brings him down for another kiss. y/n smiles into the kiss when she feels ashton in her stomach.

“i’m filling you up so perfectly, doll.” his fingers skated over her clit, and she bit down on his bottom lip as her legs began to shake. “you need me? you need me to fuck you until you’re unable to move without remembering me inside of you?” he says to her, picking up his pace. y/n nods her head harshly, letting her head fall completely into the pillows.

“yes! it feels so good,” she moans. her body began to tense up embarrassingly fast. “oh god, please don’t stop,” she whispers. ashton grabs her hips, moving her up and down his cock. y/n can feel her orgasm approach her, but she isn’t sure if ashton is going to let her cum. “i-i’m almost there, fuck,” she moans. ashton keeps his same pace, maybe thrusting harder once or twice to see her back arch.

he knows when y/n’s about to cum, but he has no intent in letting her cum this early. he brings her hips all the way down so her clit brushes against his pelvic bone. he holds her there, his grip on her hips getting stronger. “i’m not letting you cum just yet, you have a long way to go, doll. if you want it, you’re gonna have to work for it.” ashton rasps. y/n groans and starts to roll her hips into ashton. he guides her, picking her up a few times to thrust up into her.

“please, let me cum!” y/n begs, keeping the motion of her hips continuous.

ashton shakes his head, “not yet, baby.” he slips his cock out of her and starts to lay back on the bed. “c’mon, i want you to show me how you use that mouth, without yelling at me.” he tells her. y/n wants to roll her eyes and sigh heavily, but she knows that that’ll put ashton over the edge. she sits up, still looking at him with soft eyes, and takes his cock in her hand.

he grabs her hair and puts it in a make shift pony tail. once y/n’s lips are around the tip of his cock, he slowly guides her head up and down. she hollows her cheeks, letting her tongue lick the underside of his cock. ashton throws his head back, still guiding y/n’s head. she brings his cock all the way to the back of her throat until she gags, letting her spit coat him.

“god, your mouth feels so good, doll. i like it better when it’s filled like this.” he tells her. he lets himself get close to releasing in her mouth, but stops himself. y/n takes her mouth off of him, keeping her hand moving up and down his cock. “get back on my cock, i need to be inside you,” he rushes out, pulling y/n on top of him. he turns her around so he can’t see her face.

ashton grabs her wrists and brings them behind her back. she finally sinks down on his cock, whining as she does. y/n moves her hips in circles, loving how ashton felt so deep inside her. she throws her head back, arching her back as she does. ashton’s grip on her wrists didn't loosen up. y/n starts to lift her hips up down, finding her rhythm that makes her eyes close and lips smile. ashton starts to snap his hips up to meet y/n’s, gradually having y/n on her knees.

y/n wraps her hands around ashton’s forearms, digging her nails into his skin. her moans start filling up the room and the sound of skin slapping echos throughout. her back is arched as far as it can go and her legs are already shaking. “you like being fucked like this, huh? you like it when i treat you like a slut?” ashton grits, slapping her ass. she jolts forward when he does, nodding her head so fast she gets dizzy.

she starts to fall forward on the bed, her cheek flush against the duvet. now her grip on ashton’s forearms start to slip, but his never lets go. “i asked you a question, doll, i expect you to answer me,” ashton says to her. y/n can’t remember what he said to her, so she just says a meek yes. her body starts to go limp, hoping that ashton will let her cum soon.

“please, please, i wanna cum,” she whispers.

ashton can feel her pussy tighten around his cock, making him start to feel his orgasm. he groans loudly, “alright, fuck, cum for me baby, let me hear you,” he breaths.

she starts to move her wrists, trying to get out of his grip, but to no avail. “oh my god, yes!” she moans loudly. she pushes her hips towards ashton, feeling him sink further into her. “daddy, it feels so good,” she slips out. ashton throws his head back, starting to feel his cock throb inside y/n’s wet, pink walls.

“fuck, keep squeezing me like that,” he moans, stilling inside her. y/n whimpers when she feels ashton cum inside her, still feeling her orgasm come down. she’s focusing on catching her breath, she doesn’t realize ashton has slipped out of her. he brushes her hair off her shoulder, kissing it softly. “always end up being a good girl for me,” he whispers to her.

y/n smiles, opening her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek. ashton swipes it away for her. “i like it when you fuck me like that.”

#ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin preference #ashton irwin 5sos #ashton irwin #ashton #ai #5 seconds of summer smut #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer preference #5 seconds of summer #5sos smut #5sos imagine #5sos preference #5sos

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multifandomworldsposts · 1 year ago

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Day 9 of Kinktober: Car Sex with Ashton Irwin

pairing: ashton irwin x fem!reader

warning: Making out, unprotected sex, blowing

Y/N’s POV

Ashton picks me up to go out on a date with him and he recently got a new car, a Cadillac, and I’m really excited to see inside.

He drives up to my house and the car looks gorgeous and big enough to fit 5 people in it. I get in and I’m jealous on how the car looks so fucking amazing inside.

“You ready?” Ashton ask me.

“I am.” I smile.

He takes us to BOA Steakhouse with the other members of 5 Seconds of Summer and their girlfriends. A lot of us got a bunch of sea food, steak, and pasta. Some fans of us came up to talk to us and some wanted pictures of us or just 5 seconds of summer with them.

While we were eating Ashton whispers some sweet nothings in my ear.

“When we’re done here, do you want to go somewhere?”

“Where Ash?” I whisper in his ear.

“Maybe, the Overlook.” He whispers back.

The Overlook, which you can see the city view, and people can make out up there, I hope we’re actually going to see the city view.

“If you want to Ash.” I said.

“I wanna go.” He whispers again.

“We’ll go alright.” I whisper back.

After dinner Ashton and I went to the Overlook, which the city looks amazing and pretty. Ashton kisses my neck, I giggle a little bit. I kiss him back, I tug his hair.

“You wanna go in the back?” He stops kissing me and says.

"Yes," I say.

We got in the back and continued making out, he began to kiss my neck again giving me hickeys. I moan, he makes us do nose to nose.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He said.

“We have done it before.” I said.

“I know but not in a car.” He said while looking into my eyes.

I mean it’s true but I’m scared we might ruin the seats. I nod. I love him and I want him so badly.

Ashton lays me on the car seats, unzips my dress and I unbutton his dress shirt and I try to unbuckle his belt, he helps me out with it. I help him getting his boxers off, I need him now.

“You ready?” He makes sure.

“Yes. Make love to me Ash.” I said.

He kisses me again, I tug on his hair again, which made him smile in our kiss. He positions himself towards my pussy, he starts to go in and out of me slowly, I moan, I can feel him how big he is. I put my right leg around his waist, I feel him touching my leg. He goes a little faster, I gasp. He’s so good at this.

He gives me love bites on my chest, I look up to see the windows getting foggy, holy hell. I make him lay on the car seat and have him hickeys as well. The way he moans, it sounds so sexy. I start to blow him, I can feel him tugging my hair l keep going.

“Keep going baby, fuck, you’re so good at this.” Ashton says in a deep voice.

I keep on going, I feel his cum in my mouth and I keep on going up and down. He groans. God damn it, I don’t want to stop. He cums in my mouth, he tasted so good to be honest.

I lay on Ashton and I can feel his heart beating, I can tell he enjoyed that session of ours.

“That was so good Y/N/N.” He heavily breathed.

“I’m glad you liked it Ash.” I look at him.

“Liked it? I loved it.” He smiled.

“Can we do this at home not in a car?” I ask him.

“Why’s that?” He asks.

“The bed is more comfortable.” I cuddle into his chest.

“I rather do this more often.”

“Ashton.” I playfully hit him.

“If you want to, I’m not going to force you Y/N/N.”

I give him a small smile, I love him so much but I do not want to have sex in a car what so ever, it’s just not my thing to do anywhere.

“I love you Y/N.”

“In what way? like me blowing you or actually you’re in love with me on I do on a regular basis?” I question.

“On a regular basis, besides on what you just did to me, I love you so much, a lot people can see it Y/N/N.”

I kiss him, I love this man and he loves me but car sex is so uncomfortable to do in any car.

#fanfic #fanfiction #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #ashton 5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin smut #5 seconds of summer #ashton 5sos #5sos #ashton fletcher irwin #5sos fanfic #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin #5 second of summer imagines #ashton irwin 5 seconds of summer

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completemessash · 1 year ago

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Mistletoe (a.i.)

notes: just some xmas time fluff 🥰

Warnings: none

xxx

"Y/N", your friend Crystal poked your shoulder and you turned to look at her.

You had been watching some of your friends try to figure out a card game but Crystal took your attention with a nod towards the door that connected the living room to the entrance hall.

Ashton was standing there, leaning on the door frame with a glass of what seemed to be juice in hand.

His dirty blonde hair was illuminated by the light shining in the hall, making him look like there was a halo around him. His eyes crinkled as he also watched your friends play games, the hazel in them shimmering.

You raised your eyebrows at Crystal, trying to stay calm. God, why was he always so beautiful? He was just standing there, but he looked beautiful.

"Look at the door", Crystal whispered when you looked back at her again.

"No, higher up", she whispered when you looked at the side of the door frame that Ashton wasn't leaning on.

Higher up, right above him, was something green. Oh, absolutely not!

"Come onnn!", the tall brunette next to you gave you a light shove.

"Crystal, no", you took a step closer towards the couch, thus away from him.

"If not now then when?"

You bit your lip, knowing she was right. But you couldn't just -

"We'll say I forced you if it goes wrong"

Damn Crystal and her stupid smart ideas.

"But I -"

"Just a harmless Christmas tradition"

Your feet wouldn't budge though. Crystal kept explaining her master plan to you, while your mind was running in circles: What if someone saw? What if you tried to do it and he pulled away and you just ran into the door?

No, it was now or never, you could blame Crystal.

You took a deep breath, one last glance towards the couches to make sure no one was paying attention and before you could attempt to change your mind, you started putting one foot in front of the other.

Crystal was whisper cheering behind you and you were blushing before you even reached him.

He was intently watching your friends - Michael and Luke were currently trying to tear cards out of each other's hands - not noticing you. His tall figure loomed over you - even the underside of his jaw was beautiful.

Okay, you couldn't just stand here, waiting until he noticed you or worse, the others would.

"A- Ash?", you couldn't even get his full name out, your voice breaking on just the three letters.

You gulped when he looked at you, trying your best not to freeze under his hazel gaze. In your mind you heard Crystal cheering you on and you did it.

Pushing yourself on your tip toes to reach him, you leaned forward, almost losing your balance and falling into his chest in the process, and quickly pressed your lips against his.

Barely one or two seconds went by, then you rushed past him and down the hallway. What were you thinking? More importantly, what now?

"Ash! I spent hours - hey!", Michael was complaining loudly.

Then you heard footsteps quickly coming closer. Not good, really not good.

"Y/N", you suppressed an embarassed whimper when he called your name. He'd only said it a few times before as you always kept your distance a little.

You were ready to apologize when you turned around but the words got stuck in your throat yet again. He had that expression on his face.

The one where his eyes lit up, they were big, almost innocent, and glistening. His lips were slightly parted - you wanted to squeek from how cute he looked... or maybe faint.

He slowly took two more steps, so he was standing right in front of you and you had to lift your head again to meet his eyes. He tilted his head, not saying anything either, while his gaze slid over your face.

"Why did you rush away?"

You shrugged, averting your eyes to where your toes almost touched. Your face could've probably been used to cook eggs on when you felt his fingertips under your chin, lifting it until you looked into his eyes again.

"Sorry", you mumbled but he shook his head, his dimples indenting his cheeks when he smiled now.

"I didn't even get to feel it and you were already running off... Oh"

The sound was so badly acted, fake surprise displaying on his face paired with that cheeky grin. You followed his gaze to where he was looking at something above you.

"You're literally holding that up"

"No, I'm not", he grinned. His hand was above you, holding a clearly ripped up piece from the mistletoe in the door frame above your head.

"Sucks but what can you do", he sighed dramatically, his dimples getting deeper and deeper.

He waited until you couldn't help but smile back, then he bent down to your height, giving you enough time to pull away, but you didn't.

When his lips touched yours again and his hand carefully cupped your cheek, you felt like falling to the floor.

His lips felt raw but soft at the same time, warm and comforting. His body, the hand on your face, the other carefully tapping your own hand and intertwining your fingers - you'd never felt anything as wonderful as this.

There was nothing rushed about this kiss, time stopped for you to savour this moment.

Neither of you tried to change that or even wanted to and when you finally pulled apart, you could see the same heat you felt in your own face covering his. Ashton's cheeks were reddened, even the tip of his nose slightly blushing.

"And you couldn't have done that without ruining my expensive decorations?"

Ashton picked up the piece of mistletoe that had at some point fallen to the floor and while he threw it back at Michael, laughing when his friend kept complaining, you could see Crystal making excited gestures behind her husband.

When his fingertips danced down your wrist and linked your fingers with his, you were thankful that she had convinced you to go for it and kiss him.

xxx

xmas flufffff 💗❤️❤️💞❤️

#5sos #5sos fic #ashton irwin #5sos fanfic #5sos x reader #5sos imagine #5sos fluff #5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin x reader #y/n #completemessash #completemessash smut

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writersdare · 2 years ago

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Give Me Attention | Ashton Irwin

Pairing: Ashton Irwin x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Ashton and Y/N had been friends for a while. However, everything changed once she found out an unpleasant secret he thought to hide from her.

Warning: angsty, an intimate moment, a bit of cursing and mentioning of alcohol

Word Count: 2 947

Requested: yes

Author’s Note: This one was actually hard! I've been working on this one for quite a bit, and really hope you'll like the story. I'm still not sure about the whole concept, but I like to try new ideas, so I don't regret choosing this path. If you watched a film "Matthias & Maxime", you'll maybe recognise one scene from there. Besides phrases from the requested prompt list I also used another, quite a known one. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts! Thank you for your patience on this one ♡

Friday was supposed to be for parties or at least for something fun. However, Y/N had her own meaning of fun, and Ashton did not exactly like it.

“You do realise I’m not a plumber?” the guy was lying on a floor, head inside a kitchen counter, where pipes of a sink were.

“I believe in you,” Y/N smiled, changing a wet towel to a dry one. “Besides, you’re almost done, don’t complain,” she giggled and stepped back, taking a moment to appreciate Ashton’s naked back. “You’re so sweaty.”

“Oh yeah?” he mumbled, puffing loudly, while he was trying to screw the pipe. “Next time you’ll clean it yourself and I’ll look at you.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, but couldn’t hold a giggle again. The guy was slightly mad and salty, she knew, though, he was just tired. It was a late evening, and Ashton was her lifesaver, as no one agreed to drive at such time and fix the pipe. It wasn’t even a big deal, it just clogged up! Well, perhaps, “just” was a wrong word, as Ash had a hell of a night. A drummer of one of the most popular bands in the world was cleaning a freaking sink…

“You’re the best, Ash,” Y/N said, smiling, and filled a kettle with water before heating it on a stove.

“Hell yeah, I am,” Ash chuckled and carefully stood up, being on all fours at first, as he was afraid to hit his head. That would be a dramatic end of the night, truly. “It should work now,” he sighed and turned on a faucet. The water flowed down easily and finally didn’t end up on the floor.

“Thank you so much! Really! I’d hug you, but—“

“I’m sweaty, yeah, I got it,” Ash smirked and took his own white shirt on a chair to wipe his body a bit. “I’m gonna take a shower, alright? You better get me something stronger than tea,” he warned, seeing two cups on a table.

“Alright,” the girl chuckled and stood up to check if she had something on a shelf.

Y/N and Ashton knew each other for a while. In fact, she was a good friend of all four guys from the band. Ash lived closer to her place, so it was rather natural to spend evenings together occasionally.

Rather quickly the girl reconciled with her romantic feelings towards Ashton. They were just there, for him, it was stupid to deny. However, Ash always treated her like a friend, and Y/N didn’t even dare to make a step or give a little hint. It wasn’t like she suffered from low self-esteem; no, that was in the past. The girl just preferred to call herself a realist. Ashton and Y/N were as if from different worlds. His working schedule was a total mess, his relationships were, maybe, even crazier. Y/N knew if something more had ever happened to them, she could not stand unseriousness. The feelings were too strong, and they’d grow stronger, if they were a thing. It was just smarter to have Ash as a friend to avoid a risk of loosing him eventually.

“Feeling better?” she smiled, when Ashton came back to the kitchen. He wasn’t wearing a t-shirt, and drops of water were still noticeable on his chest. “How is this disease called? When a person leaves a shower without a proper use of a towel?” Y/N smirked, trying not to stare at Ash too much.

“Oh, c’mon, are you shy?” the musician chuckled, and she hated, when he was getting a bit spicy with her.

Y/N only grinned and gave Ashton a glass of Martini, when he set down next to her.

“Well-deserved,” the girl joked.

“Thank you. And yes, I’m feeling better. But do you know how I’d feel even better? If you didn’t call me in the middle of the night to fix your pipe.”

Y/N rolled the eyes, and the guy giggled, quickly leaving a kiss on the cheek. Ash smelled like her showering gel; slight alcohol notes hit the nose, too.

“I’m only joking. You know you can call me any time,” he smiled.

“It’s not that late anyway,” Y/N mumbled, but grinned back. They enjoyed teasing each other, no one was offended there. However, when Ashton’s phone ringed, the girl got slightly upset. Who could call him at twelve p.m.?

“Oh, sorry, I gotta take this,” Ash stood up. “It’s Cassy, I’ll be in a minute.”

“Cassy? Not sure if I know who it is.”

“My girlfriend,” the guy said it so easily as if he just announced the weather forecast for tomorrow. “Oh, shit, I forgot! I met her in a bar a week ago, didn’t I tell you? I’ll be back,” Ash rushed up to the living room.

Y/N’s heart dropped, and a smile was wiped from her face completely. A girlfriend then? Who he met just a week ago? That was new. At that moment the girl started to feel uncomfortable for asking him to come over to help. Perhaps, she wasn’t allowed to do so any longer, as he was in damn relationship. And what kind of friends they were, if Ashton didn’t even tell her such news?

“Sorry,” Ash smiled, coming back to the kitchen quite quickly. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Y/N smiled back, making a sip from her glass. “Listen, I didn’t know you were dating someone, I’m sorry I called you–“

“What? No-no, what are you talking about?” he outraged softly. “I told you, you can call whenever you need me.”

“I don’t think it’s right anymore, you have a girlfriend, Ash, you shouldn’t be at my place,” she shook a head, struggling to hide how upset she was. Well, the girl tried, but all her strength was as if drained by the recent news.

“Y/N, we are friends,” Ashton stared at her eyes with his grass green. The phrase was so simple, and yet it hurt so much. The truth was painful. “So, it doesn’t matter. I still can come over and can stay at your place tonight,” he smiled cheerfully, but the girl shook a head again.

“No, I think you should spend the night at your place. It’s not that far from here anyway,” the girl whispered and emptied her glass.

Maybe she wasn’t right. Maybe it was stupid to behave like that and demand Ashton to come back to his place. Y/N wasn’t exactly sad he got a girlfriend – after all, that happened before, too – she was just upset Ash didn’t tell her right away. It seemed he didn’t even plan to. If not the call, who knew for how long the girl would stay oblivious?

"You can’t skip my birthday party, Y/N," Calum mumbled, sitting on a couch in a music studio the other day. Y/N was sitting next to him, resting a head on a back of the couch. When the girl confessed that she probably wouldn’t be able to attend the party, Cal didn’t even look surprised – it was just out of discussion, she was coming. So, the musician kept his eyes on a phone screen, trying to complete a level in some silly game. "What’s the matter anyway? You don’t want to get me a present, do you?" he chuckled, joking.

"It’s not that," Y/N sighed and turned her head towards the friend. Ashton wasn’t in the studio that day, and being honest, it was for the best, as their relationship wasn’t great since the guy announced he had a girlfriend. They didn’t talk about it, pretended they were fine, but hung out less – never alone, only with the rest of the band. It was hard to tell what was in Ashton’s mind, and why he just couldn’t tell the truth from the beginning. It had been three weeks, and they still didn’t figure it out. Y/N felt extremely stupid, she needed to let the things go, it wasn’t a big deal anyway. She just couldn’t understand why it still bothered her so much. And was his new girlfriend that special that he didn’t want to introduce to her? It was ridiculous.

"What is it then?" Calum stayed calm, his voice sounded even slightly indifferent, however, Y/N knew he cared.

The girl hesitated, feeling rather unsure if she needed to raise that topic. Although she was the one who started it, saying she wouldn’t be at Calum’s party, so perhaps, there was no way out.

"Is Ashton’s girlfriend gonna be there?"

"Why would she be there?" Cal finally put the phone away. He was quite amused by the question.

"Well, cause she’s his girlfriend," Y/N chuckled, finding his answer quite annoying.

Calum turned his full body towards the girl and stared at her.

"Wait… He didn’t tell you? They have a contract, it’s a PR relationship."

"What?…" Y/N gasped. When did they end up in that stage of their friendship where Ash stopped telling her anything about his life? The girl felt ashamed. She certainly didn’t enjoy looking stupid in front of Cal, however, the guy knew much more than both of his delusional friends did.

After being angry for a while, Y/N came to conclusion that she needed to stop thinking about Ashton that much. Clearly, he didn’t care about her or their friendship anymore, so why should she? It all felt quite childish, but the girl was sure that the main kid in their situation was Ash. Even when it was her, who ended up dancing with different guys up all night at Calum’s birthday party, ignoring the friend completely.

"She drives me insane," he growled, staring at Y/N, who was cuddling a random dude and moving her hips to the tempo of music. How wasn’t she still tired?

"To be fair, you did lie about your relationship," Calum chuckled, glancing at the mutual friend and making a sip from his glass.

"I had my reasons," Ash mumbled annoyingly, not being able to take the eyes off her even for a slight second.

"And she has her own," Michael commented, resting a hand on the friend’s shoulder. However, Ash shook it off rashly and hurried up to approach Y/N, when noticed the "dude’s" palm going down her waist.

"Don’t do anything stupid!" Luke begged, but Ashton didn’t hear him.

"Hey, Y/N, I need to talk to you," his whole body was tense. The musician wasn’t looking at the guy and was only staring at Y/N’s eyes.

"We kinda busy, man," the stranger made a step forward, and Ashton placed the hand on his chest quickly, pushing the cause of his bad mood aside. Ash grabbed Y/N’s wrist gently, but persistently, and pulled her from one room to another, where no one could bother them.

Calum moved to that apartment just recently, so some places were still on renovation, just like the guest room they appeared in. It was almost empty except for few old closets and kitchen counters, which, apparently, were left by the previous owners. It smelled like dust and damp, nothing pleasant.

"What the hell?" Y/N outraged, once Ashton shut the door behind them. "I was having a good time!"

"Yeah? Well, I had a shitty time!" the guy snapped at her and touched his face with a palm, standing in front of Y/N. "Shit, I… What the hell is going on, really? You’re ignoring me, hanging out with some pricks instead!"

"You don’t answer my questions, why should I answer yours?!"

"I got jealous, alright?!" Ash spilled out before thinking, and his voice became softer immediately. "And I know, I’m not allowed to be jealous, you aren’t even mine."

The phrase was absurd to Y/N. Wasn’t he the one who had a girlfriend? It didn’t already matter if it was a fake one. The girl set on a counter that was covered with some plastic tape, and shook her head.

"I gave you space, so you could enjoy your relationship, which, by the way, you didn’t even tell me about."

"Fuck," Ashton sighed heavily and touched both Y/N’s hands. "I’m sorry, alright? I just… didn’t want to tell you. Don’t you remember how you reacted that night? You didn’t even allow me to stay at your place!"

"I didn’t allow you, because you hid from me the fact you got a girlfriend at first place!" she outraged and broke the touch. "I don’t care if you have a girlfriend or not, if it’s PR or not, I just want you to be honest with me!"

"Do you? Are you really so indifferent about me having a girlfriend?" unlike Y/N’s, Ashton’s voice was calm.

The girl shoved him in the shoulder and made an attempt to jump off the counter, but her legs happened to be pressed against Ashton’s.

"Answer me," he demanded and touched her palm again.

"Yes, I don’t care," Y/N replied coldly, watching him bending down and leaving small kisses on her fingers. It became hot all of a sudden, and a heart started its race away from the feelings. It was too late to run, though.

"You’re lying to me," Ash took her second hand and left the kisses on the fingers again.

"I learnt from the best," the girl smirked, but the corners of the lips twitched, when the musician placed his palm on her knee.

"I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t want to upset you. Do you think I’m so happy about having this fake relationship?" the green eyes pierced hers, while the hand moved from the knee up. He had no shame.

"I wasn’t upset."

"Stop lying to me," he whispered and brought his face close to hers.

"What are you doing?" the girl didn’t breathe. Y/N also wanted to speak less, being scared to gasp accidentally due to everything what she was experiencing at that moment.

"Proving that you’re wrong," his lips almost touched hers, and the hand was under the skirt, when the girl gathered the remnants of self-control and placed a palm on his lips.

"Fake one or not, but you have a girlfriend. And these lips that… I maybe dreamt about at nights are kissing someone else," Y/N whispered, looking at her own hand. "I’m not doing this," she looked up at Ash. His pupils were dilated by all the emotions that were rushing through his veins. He wanted nothing but her, to hold Y/N in his arms and to kiss her lips, not… someone else’s.

"I’m sorry," Ashton whispered. "I signed the contract. You know how important the job is for me," his voice was trembling a little, as if he wasn’t sure about his own words.

"No one can force you to do that. Others don’t do it," Y/N was speaking the truth. "And I’m not asking you to cancel the contract because of me. You know I’m not like that," she smirked and took away the hand from his lips, once Ashton stepped back. "Even when I found out you had a girlfriend, you didn’t tell the whole truth. Why?"

Ash smirked and shook his head, looking away.

"It’s stupid."

"The whole situation is stupid, Ashton," Y/N chuckled coldly and jumped off the counter. "So tell me. Why didn’t you tell me it was all fake from the beginning?" she was looking at his eyes, but the guy didn’t look back.

"I wanted to see your reaction."

"Are you satisfied?"

"Y/N…"

"You’re just unbelievable," the girl rolled the eyes and headed to leave the room, but Ash caught her by the waist. "Let me go. I really don’t want to see you now," she tried to hold back the tears.

"Like it or not, I am not leaving you. If you want to go, I’ll go with you," he touched her chin, so Y/N could glance at his eyes. "I know I fucked up. But we’ve been friends for a while, Y/N. And I needed to know…"

"You could just ask me," the girl interrupted. "Do you really think I’d say I didn’t like you?"

Ash laughed shortly and turned his head away.

"What’s so funny?" she outraged.

"What’s funny?" Ash asked and returned his gaze back at Y/N. "I’ve been making hints here and there, and you never reacted!"

"Wait… You’ve been flirting with me?"

"For the past year, but thanks for noticing," Ashton shook his head. "You’re so annoying."

"Well, it’s only your fault it wasn’t clear," Y/N allowed herself a small smile.

"Oh, it’s my fault?!"

"Yes," she giggled.

"Come here," Ash chuckled and began to tickle her sides. "My fault then, huh?"

"Stop!" the girl laughed.

The musician smiled and pressed her head against a shoulder, then hugged Y/N tight.

"I’m sorry, Y/N. I know it was stupid. But… Is there a chance that you’re not too mad at me, and we can go on a date any time soon? I’ll cancel the contract…"

"I’ll think about it."

"You’ll think?!"

The laughter rang out behind the door of the old guest room again. Ashton was not going to let her leave his arms that night, although Y/N wasn’t planning to. They both knew that the hardest part was just ahead, but maybe they could go through it together. After all, there was a chance that the girl was simply mistaken, and they didn’t need to lose each other. To take the risk and actually be together was worth it all.

taglist: @dgrangaa, @gracieboogirl

– gif and photo aren’t mine and belong to the rightful owner –

All stories are original and written by me. Do not copy, trace and post anywhere without permission and credit. The stories are fictional, they do not correspond to reality and written just for fun ♡

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#Ashton irwin #5sos blurb #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer imagine #5sos #5sos angst #5sos fic #Ashton Irwin imagine #Ashton Irwin angst #Ashton Irwin x reader #Ashton Irwin x y/n #ashton 5 seconds of summer #ashton 5sos #ashton 5sauce #Ashton Irwin blurb #writersdare #writersdare ashton 5sos

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lovebombs4life · 1 year ago

Text

cheer up - a.f.i.

requested: naur, listening to chase atlantic rn

a/n: tralalala my eyes are dry

cw: SMUT!!! praise, dirty talk, name calling, slight choking, orgasm denial, oral (m), car sex, unprotected p in v, disapproving parents, black hair ashton is so 🫥🫥

———

“goodnight, y/n. ashton.” my father said as we left their house. i bit my lip, sighing as we got in the car. i knew my parents wouldn’t approve of ashton, but i'm an adult, i’m old enough to make my own choices.

they didn’t like how ashton watched my every move, squeezed my hand or leg softly, they didn’t like his tattoos. they just didn’t like him. i wish i knew why.

i threw my head back against the head rest, huffing as ashton pulled out of the driveway. “i’m sorry. i didn’t think they’d treat you like that, ash.” i frowned, looking over at him.

he shrugged, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. “it’s whatever. they don’t have to approve of me.” he said blandly. i bit the inside of my cheek, putting my hand near the center console, waiting for him to grab my hand.

he let his hand fall to mine, squeezing it. “i love you.” i spoke, kissing his hand. he smiled softly at my action.

“i love you too, y/n. always know how to make me smile.” he said, glancing at me quickly before shifting his eyes back to the road. i let go of his hand, resting it on his thigh. he tensed up at the feeling.

i drug my hand up his thigh, palming him through his jeans. his breathe hitched, grabbing my hand again. “keep that up and see what happens, baby.” he said sternly.

i smirked slightly, drawing my hand back for a minute before having it land back on his thigh, trailing up once more. “you’re grazing dangerously, darling.” he glared at me. i slid down in my seat, unbuckling his belt before sliding my hand down into his boxers.

his cock twitched as i wrapped my hand around his, sliding my thumb over his tip. he bucked his hips slightly, before pulling over. he unbuckled quickly, grabbing my hand from in his jeans, and my other free hand.

“in the back.” he demanded. i crawled back quickly, watching as he moved back there with me. i laid back against the door, his lips colliding with mine roughly. his nails dug into my hips as he grabbed them, making me gasp.

he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth, wrestling with mine. he pulled back, biting my bottom lip. i moaned as he attacked at my neck, sucking at my skin.

“such a fuckin slut. you need my cock that bad?” he asked. i nodded, looking at him with pleading eyes. “i’m sorry, what was that?” he said, wanting a verbal response from me.

“yes sir, want your cock, wanna taste you.” i cried, cupping him through his jeans once again. he groaned, pushing his jeans down. i pulled down his boxers, allowing him to sit down. i lowered myself, grabbing his dick before stroking it a few times.

he breathed out a moan, looking down at me. his dark curls fell in front of his face. i licked at his tip, before taking him into my mouth. he thrusted upwards, grabbing my head.

i moaned around him, his cock going down my throat. “fuck baby, you like that? like my cock filling your throat?” he asked, guiding my head as he pulled my hair.

i moaned in response before he pulled my head up, making me look at him. saliva dripped from my lips onto his thighs as my mouth hung open. “such a good little slut. taking my cock so well. think you deserve a reward?” he teased, his free hand sliding my shirt up, pushing my bra above my chest.

he tweaked my nipples, kneeling my breasts. i nodded before speaking. “yes sir, been such a good girl.” i gasped, looking into his eyes.

he bit his lip, lifted me to the seat next to him, pulling my jeans down quickly, my panties going along with them. he grabbed my hips, pulling me onto his lap. he moved my hips against his lap, his cock sliding between my folds.

i moaned as his cock rubbed against my clit, trying to move my hips faster. his grip was too tight, making me fail. he chuckled as he lined his cock up with my hole, pushing my hips down to make me sink into his dick. i threw my head back in pleasure, my hands resting on his thighs.

i started bouncing myself on him, moaning. he grabbed at my tits as they bounced, sucking every so often. my head leaned back against the drivers seat, my eyes rolling back.

“god, you look so pretty like that baby. my cock feel good in that pretty little pussy of yours, huh?” he groaned. i nodded violently.

“feels so good, sir, love your cock.” i cried as he thrusted his hips up to meet mine. as he did so, his cock hit deeper inside me. he chuckled as i gripped back at the seat, my eyes fluttering shut.

“fuck, don’t stop, feels so fucking good.” i moaned, biting my lip as my head fell back. he gripped my hips harder, one of his hands meeting my clit.

he applied pressure, his fingers circling around my bundle of nerves. i gasped as his fingers sped up, his hips slamming into me.

i let out a moan that sounded almost pornographic. he leaned his head forward, biting at my skin. i clenched around him, his dick curving up to hit that sponge little spot inside me.

“you gonna cum darling? gonna drip down my cock?” he encouraged, feeling my body loosen up. i nodded my head lazily, my head feeling fuzzy as he continued fucking into me, his hand still rubbing my clit.

“so close, ash, wanna cum.” i cried, my hips jerking forward. he chuckled as he pulled out of me, making me cry. he pulled his jeans back up, climbing back to the front of the car. i laid back against the seats, my eyebrows furrowed, my pussy throbbing.

“what the fuck?” i asked, confused at his actions. he only smirked as he started the car back up.

“you didn’t think i was going to let you cum right here, now did you? want to have you in our own bed where you can watch yourself in the mirror across the room, darling.” he said, letting me lay in the back as he drove the rest of the way home.

i pulled my shirt back down, and lifted my jeans back up. fine minutes later we pulled into the driveway. i instantly got out of the car, rushing to the door. i grabbed out my keys, unlocking the door.

ashton laughed at me as he was still getting out of the car. i ran upstairs, quickly throwing my clothes off, getting on the bed. i stuck my ass in the air, waiting for ashton to walk up.

i heard his slow, heavy footsteps as he made his way upstairs. i looked back at him as he entered the room. he smirked, throwing his shirt off.

“look at you, baby, all pretty for me. now you really deserve a reward.” he spoke darkly, pulling his jeans off, throwing them across the room. he pulled off his boxers, grabbing my hips. he slid his tip against me, quickly slamming into me.

i grasped at the sheets, moaning into the bed, feeling him deeper than he was when we were in the car. he grabbed my hair, pulling my back up towards him, turning my head so i could watch as he fucked me in the mirror.

“look at that gorgeous face. such a slut for my cock, aren’t you?” he bit my neck, watching me.

“love your cock, ash, love how big you are.” i whimpered, my head falling against his shoulder. i softly kissed his skin before nibbling at it. he grabbed my throat softly, his cock sliding in and out of me at a fast pace. soft swears fell from my lips as he smacked at my ass.

“taking me so well. how do you feel, huh? am i making you feel good?” he kissed my cheek as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

“feels so good, never want it to stop.” i cried. he laughed softly. i clenched around him, making his hips stutter. his hold on me tightened.

“wanna make you cum, sir, can i make you cum?” i asked, looking at him in the mirror. his head was thrown back, curls sticking to his forehead.

“not yet baby, want you to cum first.” he said, letting his hand fall to my clit as it was before. i whimpered at the sensitivity of it all. my stomach tightened, my body falling forward over his arms.

“f-fuck, sir, gonna cum!” i cried, my vision blurring as my thighs shook. my juices flowed down his cock as he continued to pound into me.

my body convulsed as i rode out my high. he pulled out of me, letting me down to the bed gently. my head was turned to the mirror, watching him as he stroked himself, hot, white ropes of his cum shooting onto my back.

he threw back his head, swearing and moaning as he came. i breathed heavily as he fell down on the bed next to me.

“your parents should be glad you have me, otherwise they’d never have grandkids in the future.” he laughed. i turned my head to him smiling, smacking him on the chest playfully.

“you’re so terrible. i love you.” i giggled.

#ashton irwin #5 seconds of summer #calum hood #luke hemmings #michael clifford #5sos #5sos5 #ashton 5sos #calum 5sos #luke 5sos #michael 5sos #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin imagines

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 1 year ago

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Hi there...I understand you're taking requests 👀. Could I please get an Ashton Irwin x reader friends to lovers? Maybe he confesses his feelings to reader who feels the same but doesn't think they should be together because he has to go on tour (distance). But they end up together with some smut. I hope you can write this one, if not I understand. Thanks so much 😊

Hi, thanks for dropping a request. I hope you enjoy it doesn't get steamy, if I'm honest. I hope that's okay. If it's a problem, please let me know!

Requests are open briefly until the 24th. Any NSFW content (smut, etc) must be requested off anon to ensure no minors (those 17 and below) are requesting the content.

Feel free to look through my masterlist for more. You can submit a request through my asks.

________________________________

It’s a tradition, one that you’d personally be damned in trying to pinpoint when it had grown into such. But lack of clarity on its inception doesn’t undermine the tradition that brings you here, two nights before the tour sitting across from Ashton. He’s giggling at his own story, napkin clutched into one of his hands. Your cheeks hurt from how much you’ve been smiling and laughing at it as well. You and Ashton are always here two nights before any tour with dinner. Whether he cooks, or you cook, or you eat out--it doesn’t matter. The two of you make sure to set time aside for each other regardless.

“I’m so serious,” Ashton giggles. “Guy straight up offered fifty bucks for the t-shirt I was literally wearing. Right off my back.”

“The real question,” you start, setting your bottle down after your sip, “is did you actually give this rando your shirt off your back for fifty bucks?”

Ashton’s smile changes, the bright honey curve of his lips morphs into something softer and more mischievous. “I got a good lunch afterwards though.”

“Ashton!” you scold, tufts of laughter bubbling from your chest. You know the possibility always exists with Ashton. It would be hard to imagine that he wouldn’t do something just for the story of it.

“I didn’t take the cash! But he treated me to lunch, since I did sort of give him the shirt off my back.”

“You didn’t sort of do anything,” you huff, finishing off the last pieces of your food. Ashton’s plate sits with just another bite or two of the pasta. Somehow the food’s gone faster than you two have even calculated for, but that won’t stop you. With the settling evening, Ashton’s backyard is a comfortable solace, a nice place to rest for a little.

“Guilty as charged,” Ashton returns. He scrapes up the last of his food as the conversation lulls for a moment. He watches though, the way you stare up and behind him, like your mind’s taken you to places behind the court of his house. “But how’s work? For you?”

You’d asked Ashton how his life was going and it sent him spiraling. He can go a mile a minute but he’s never far from always checking in on you. You shrug at Ashton’s question. Your life has fallen a little mundane though your work is anything but.

You’d fallen into Ashton’s world when he frequented the record shop you worked out in the last year of your master’s program. You needed the cash on the side. Though the days were long between school, work, and homework, you found a little slice of quiet in that shop. It was a local gem, hidden in the debris of a crumbling shopping center. But locals knew the record shop well and would take the hike to unearth the treasure.

Ashton was one of those locals. He spotted you as you placed prices on new arrivals and asked if anything specific came in worth looking for. You shrugged in response, but lifted out some limited edition vinyls with a yawn. You’re not sure what joke you made specifically, but it was enough. Ashton laughed like his life depended on it and more and more he came into the shop. You two exchanged names, then numbers, growing closer and closer as time passed. In just a year, you could tell that Ashton was going to be someone important in your life. You’d never imagine the scale, and still can’t. But you told yourself even if Ashton was there for a season it would be spring and bring forth all sorts of new life.

Now, you’re four and half years into your friendship and it still grows and grows. You’ve left the record shop, settling into talent management and running in leagues adjacent to Ashton’s. It’s not the most glamorous job on the planet, but it pays the bills. The only downside to the field is that drama from others becomes your drama just by association. You have to get in the dirt sometimes as much as you definitely didn’t want to. And Ashton knows how much you dislike some of the aspects of your job.

“Is that a shrug that means same old, same old? Or is that a shrug that means big shit?” Ashton questions. “I’d hazard a guess closer to the latter.”

“You win another year of friendship,” you laugh, finally focusing your gaze back on Ashton. His honey eyes are melting with concern as he gazes up at you. It makes your stomach flutter and you hate the feeling. Hate that the two of you were always dancing.

“I wasn’t worried for a second about that. You’re stuck with me. It’s in the contract.”

“I signed no such thing,” you tease. “I need to see that one.”

“It’s written in invisible ink,” Ashton snorts. “But seriously, what’s wrong? Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s just a mess.” You’re not supposed to get into specifics, but it’s never once stopped you when it came to Ashton. “It’s sensitive information really and not something I want to spread around even if it’s to safe ears.”

Ashton nods. “I’m sure you see and hear a lot of shit.” He knows you’re working specifically with someone up and coming. They’re young and if Ashton knows anything from his younger years, it’s that trouble comes with freedom and excitement. Some mistakes though just need to be learned the hard way. So Ashton assumes it’s something big for you to even keep it quiet.

“Too much shit. We’re talking with lawyers,” you divulge.

Ashton whistles. He’s no stranger to lawyers but he knows that when they get into the mix it gets messy fast. But they aren’t there for no reason, no little reason that is. “Fuck. Is this like…criminal?”

You shake your head. “It’s technically a civil matter but it could easily get criminal with my client’s hothead.”

“You’ve mentioned that before,” Ashton comments. Once before the two of you were catching up over lunch and your phone rang. Not the first time Ashton’s been inside a police station but it is the first time he’s been in one where he thought a crime might happen right next to an officer. To say he thought you could spit fire that day is not eloquent enough for your rage. “Well, I hope it doesn't get criminal. I know it’s gotta be a nightmare for you though. You’ve only been working with them for what? 6 months?”

“Eight,” you correct, “but it’s not long enough to be dealing with lawyers on a first name basis.”

Ashton reclines into his seat, arms folded over his chest. You rest your cheek against the flat of your knuckles, elbows resting on the table. Though you’re smiling, Ashton knows just how unamused you are at the situation. “How long have you been dealing with this situation?”

“Two months? Maybe a little less, but like we’re about to get the two month mark.”

“God damn.”

You can only nod, a hum leaving your throat. “Yeah, but that’s boring and a buzzkill.”

Ashton doesn’t miss the way you spin the bottle of alcohol free beer in a circle. He laughs but nods. “Fine, fine. Want another?”

“No, no, I’m good. You excited for this tour?” Ashton hadn’t talked it about in the same way he had the others. He adored what he was doing. He spoke passionately about the tour. But you were fuzzy on some details. Normally, he was brimming with every twist and turn the tour had. He’d trip over himself to tell you. You hate to think it was somehow a sign--that maybe Ashton’s retracting.

Ashton’s nod is fast and hard. You watch him, eyes dropping from you to the green glass bottle in his hands. “I’m very excited. But I don’t want to spoil it,” he offers. It’s soft and you think that the words are somehow going to crumble onto his lap.

“What do you mean spoil it?” you question. You don’t want to start pointing fingers and claiming that he’s not telling you things like before. You don’t want Ashton to go onto the defense.

“I-it’s so silly,” he laughs.

“No, I’m sure it’s not silly,” you offer.

“But it is. I just-I kind of want you just to see it without me telling you anything about it beforehand. I know I normally tell you everything but this time I just want this to be a surprise.”

“Want me to go in blind, Irwin? Trying to give me a heart attack? I’m supposed to have insider knowledge, you know?”

He smiles again. For that, you’re grateful. “No, you do. I’m sure you have more than enough insider knowledge. I just--” His words fall short. He loves telling you everything. God, Ashton loves sharing his world with you. It makes him smile to see you smile. He wants to be there, when he can be, for you. When he can’t be, he wants to know that he’s still one of the first people you call even through the distance. And he does know it. When you got offered a position with the management company, you called Ashton mere minutes after the email came through. When Ashton nailed a drumline, he’d ensure you got to hear the initial take or two.

But there’s something different about this--he wants to watch you when everything comes unraveled. It’s unlike anything else they’ve done. He wants the show to keep some of its magic. That and he wants to keep an excuse to see you again. You visit during the hometown shown normally and you still plan to this time. But he’s hoping to convince you to visit at least one other show too. Because no two shows are exactly alike.

“Are you sure you can only make it to the LA show?” Ashton questions, finally looking up at you.

You pause, nails picking at the label and the label scrunches just a little with your work. “I might be in Dallas too.”

“Really? You mean that, no bullshit?”

You shrug, your own lips failing to hold back your smile. Ashton catches on though and pushes up in his seat. His plate scratches over the top of the table as his forearms move it to the side. Your skin warms. It’s not embarrassment, it’s not even fear or shyness. You just feel alive in a way that only Ashton seems to make possible. You hold up your hands to slow his roll before it’s begun. “I’m supposed to be working the night before but I extended my stay by a couple days.”

“I’ll take it. I’ll take it easily.” Ashton reaches for your hands. Your palms are softer to the touch and it’s not lost on Ashton how the hairs on his arm stand up at your touch--electric in ways that he’s sure he can’t be alone in. When he looks up through his lashes, your gaze is dropped down to your intertwined fingers. Your fingers stroke gently over the top of his hands, over his knuckles.

“You’re such a sap,” you tease softly.

“I’ll have you know that I don’t care,” Ashton hums. His bones are melting at your touch.

“You all packed up yet?” Ashton’s not necessarily a last minute packer, but he does occasionally cut it down to the wire. More than one of your pre-tour dinners has ended with Ashton needing to pack up his suitcase. It almost feels like it wouldn’t be a tradition without that fact.

Ashton shakes his head, tracing the veins on the top of your hands now. It’s a dance, your hands trading who leads and who waits. “Stylist got the show outfits last week. Everything else is sitting around the suitcase waiting for your magic touch.”

“Oh, c’mon,” you laugh. “You taught me how to pack!”

“And I must say I may be one heck of a teacher, but I swear I almost miss something without you.” He pouts at you, lower lip rolling out.

You roll your eyes but tap at Ashton’s forearms. “You clean up the dishes and get me another beer and I’ll get started.” You’d cooked over at Ashton’s place. Your apartment doesn't have the appropriate kitchen space and you hate how cramped it can feel, so Ashton offered up his place.

Ashton squeezes at your forearms in response, “Thank you. Dishes will be squeaky clean.”

It’s all the two of you need before you push away from the table, plates and bottles in hand, and carry on back inside of the house. The floors are cool against your feet and the house echoes in a way that lets you know all is silent. Ashton most often keeps music playing, saying it makes the place feel lived in. You’re not sure how it can’t feel lived in. Ashton’s couch is covered in blankets, walls lined with plaques and photographs. The living room is a bit echoey as it opens up into the kitchen more directly, but there’s plenty of life, if anyone was to ask you.

You set your dishes on the counter next to the sink, listening to the click of the ceramic meeting the marble. “One of these days you’re going to have to pack yourself,” you tease.

Ashton closes the door to the fridge with his hip, holding two bottles in hand. “Don’t you dare say that. You’ll always be my pack checker.” He wants to say more, wants to say the reason you’ll always be there is because you’ll be with him. Forever might be a scary concept, but he wants to see what that could look like with you. Though if Ashton puts anything more than friends out there and you shoot him down, it’ll shatter him.

He’d recover, he knows. But it’s selfish. He’d rather not have to lose you or hurt himself like that.

“Hmm, my tax might get higher,” you tease, sliding the bottle opener off the counter.

“I’d pay it in a heartbeat,” Ashton huffs. And as the two of you get closer, you reaching for the bottle, Ashton wishes he’d just be more direct. He really ought too. He wants to tell you but also worries that it might break everything.

You work loose the top to both bottles. “That’s a lot of game, Irwin. Let’s see if you can back it up.”

“Promise, I can.”

Only a hum leaves your throat before your sip pauses you. “I’ll be upstairs packing your suitcase.”

“Thank you!” he calls out as you push towards the stairs.

“Yeah, yeah, just pay up, Irwin.”

Ashton watches your exit, the stairs taking you further and further from sight. It feels like it’s bubbling up his chest. All the words he’s held onto for years. But if he’s going to be honest, this might be the most selfish thing he’s going to embark on.

You sigh as you enter Ashton’s bedroom. His closet door is open, suitcase splayed on the floor. Inside of the case, you can see his toiletry bag, clothes stacked neatly inside and a couple pairs of shoes on the floor outside the cas. You assume this is all the stuff he’s taking with him on tour. It’s a scene you're familiar with, having grown fond of the ritual as well.

You can’t shake the soft echo of Ashton’s voice earlier, I’ll take it.

It’s eating away at your tongue. What will Ashton take? It certainly couldn’t be just one extra show you’d catch. It certainly wasn’t that. But there was something desperate and earnest in his voice. You think it might mean more. You want it to mean more. The crush on Ashton started slow, so slow you almost can’t pinpoint when it surfaced. But you know it had surfaced.

You longed for his touch and when he was around, you felt like everything made sense. Even if it didn’t actually make sense, there’s a sense of comfort in his presence that slows your racing mind. You don’t have butterflies, but it’s a warm feeling buzzing beneath your skin. A kind of calm that cuts through the noise.

Ashton could have his pick of whomever. It’s a fact made possible by his occupation and his good looks help too. Yet, you’ve noticed a decreasing lack of conversation surrounding relationships. You weren’t sure if he was looking less for them or if he was just keeping that information from you out of respect. You never hated that he talked about other women. You’d sort of grown accustomed to that topic, having talked Ashton off many ledges about love in the midst of drama, familial trauma with relationships, and his own stubbornness.

You’re not less of a suspect about the topic either. You stopped talking so much about your own love life with Ashton as well. Part of it due to its slow death. With work and your crush on Ashton you sort of resigned yourself to a state of limbo--temporarily at least. You know you can’t linger on this crush and unknown forever. But you hadn’t been so bold as to bring it up before.

Perhaps, it was time to breach that line again.

The clack of Ashton’s slippers on his floors lets you know he’s moving up the stairs and closer to the bedroom. You keep your focus on the tuck of his jeans into the bottom of the suitcase. Your heart races though, the closer and closer Ashton gets.

Would you really bring up this conversation now? Two days before tour? It was beyond shitty timing. Yet, opportunity feels like it’s slipping through your fingers if you don’t make a move now. Like if you don’t say something now you won’t say something ever. You’ll resign yourself to swallowing back down everything you’ve been brewing over in the ten minutes you’ve had apart from Ashton.

“What’s the diagnosis, doc?” Ashton teases, slipping out of his house shoes. His descent beside you on the floor is a little slow and he groans just a hair as he gets down.

“Bad knees,” you return with a laugh, taking a shirt from the pile to fold and roll.

“You’re a fucking comedian,” Ashton huffs. He takes another one of his shirts and is acutely aware that he should probably handle his undergarments to spare you.

It falls quiet around the two of you. You’re focused now on folding, rolling, tucking into luggage. You run your fingers over the items. “Got enough bottoms? I’m not sure how often you’ll be near a washer and dryer.”

“We find ways,” Ashton laughs. “Also I’m counting the pants I’m wearing on the first flight, so yeah, I’m good.”

“PJ’s?”

“A couple sets to swap out,” Ashton answers, lifting up to display some shorts and t-shirts beneath his normal attire.

“Space for souvenirs?”

Ashton laughs. “Take me for a rookie, baby?”

“I don’t know, maybe.” It falls quiet again. The scruff’s grown thicker and now might be enough to constitute a beard. “Going to let the beard grow out or shave it?”

Ashton shrugs. “I’ve got some shaving stuff packed just in case I choose otherwise. It’ll only need a couple days to grow back,” he laughs.

Now, as the two of you lock gazes, you see something swimming in Ashton’s eyes. His brows are pulled together. “Everything okay?” you ask. Though the two of you are separated by a suitcase, you still inch closer.

“Can-can I ask you something?”

You nod. “Anything.” And it’s so easy to say that. Because you mean it. Ashton can ask you anything and you’ll answer it. But you’re not even thinking what that might mean to someone else until Ashton’s stumbling over his own words. A man normally so confident, worrying his lips over and over with his teeth.

“I just--I know we’ve been friends for a while and with the tour coming up so soon, I’m not sure this is even fair to ask now.” Ashton pauses. He wants to take the knot of your brows as rejection but he watches for a moment longer and the pieces are clicking. Your eyes narrow, then widen like the bulb might’ve just gone off even before he’s gotten all the words out. “I don’t-I don’t want to ruin anything! I just need to ask.”

The possibility you hadn’t fully wanted to let yourself consider seems to be crash landing into your lip. If you’d conjured up this moment, you were afraid that you’d give it too much weight and care about it a bit too much. You worried that if you did open the door it would slam close, so you let yourself just think, but never dream.

“Ashton, I’m going to ask this because I just need it explicit. What are you asking?”

A beat. Then two.

Ashton moves the suitcase top up and over to shut the half packed suitcase close. He moves closer to you, taking your hands. “I want to ask if I should ask for a romantic relationship with you if the answer might be yes? I-I know we have a lot to work out and I’m gone for 4 months in two days. But, god, I had to ask. I have to ask.”

There’s a lot of unknowns. It’s jumping off the deep end. But the things you do know is that you and Ashton have had years. That surely had to count for something. “It-it could be.” The words make your own teeth chatter for a second. Your guts hurt at the thought that you might even be inching closer to something.

Ashton’s palm is large--it swallows your cheek as he brings your face up closer. Your foreheads brush and you can smell the garlic from your food and the subsequent mint you’re sure Ashton snuck on the way up here.

His smile radiates over his entire face. You can feel the heat of it ghosting over your face and you smile too. “It could be?”

“It could be. I like you. A lot. You make me feel safe. But you’re leaving so soon and I don’t know if right now I can say anything definitely.”

Ashton’s lips brush over the tip of your nose. “I know. I’m sorry I didn’t ask anything sooner. But please know I’m happy at the possibility. We’ll talk. I promise.”

As Ashton draws back, you surge forward, locking him in with a hand on the back of his neck. Ashton had asked but still you need the words. “Promise me we’ll talk at least weekly while you’re on tour? Promise me that there’s a possibility back?”

“I promise there’s a possibility. I mean, more than that too. But it’s--it’s not something you just waltz into. We’ll talk. Weekly at the absolutely least.”

Ashton swears his chest is going to burst when you kiss the tip of his nose. His fingers curl and he wants to do nothing more than to take your waist into his hands, kiss you until his lungs burn. But he won’t do that. The two of you had only promised an exploration, something to talk about more in depth, nothing full fledged. Ashton can’t lie that he doesn’t take that promise to bed like treasure. He can’t lie that he doesn’t lets it bury into his chest. He can’t lie that his dreams don’t water that hope.

He can’t lie that when he wakes to a text from you, Take care of yourself today, with a red heart instead of the pink ones that something ike joy, or maybe just a stronger hope, blossoms.

Your phone shakes and you pull the glasses off your face with a huff. You’d been buried into your laptop trying to read over the headlines about your client and you already know it’s going to be a mess, yet this is all you have just a mess.

Ashton’s name greets you on the screen and your bubble of frustration shrinks. “Long time, no see, stranger,” you tease, taking in the shaky and choppy picture of Ashton.

“Hey, stranger,” he teases. You can tell by the way his hair sticks to his forehead he’s recently either gotten down with a show. “What’s it like on the west coast?” he asks.

“Sunny and on the verge of collapse.”

“Verge of collapse? Your client?” Ashton questions.

“Isn’t it always? I’ll figure it out, I know. Just buried right now in tabloid bullshit. How was the show over there? How’s the east coast?”

“It’s a little cloudy. Heard some stuff about potential hurricanes. I’ll be glad to be further west next week.”

You nod, scotting down a little in your chair. “This time of year is hurricane season. Must be an active year though if you’re catching wind of it.”

“Our tour manager said the same thing. We’ll be getting out just in the knick of time. Just worried about the folks who live out here. Hurricanes don’t sound fun.”

You shake your head. “Mother Nature is always to be feared--fires to hurricanes.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“How are the shows though?” you ask, knowing that you may not get all the time you want with Ashton on the phone so you try to get the best of it you can.

“They’re fucking phenomenal. Amazing. Not quite the same as when you’re around, but they’re going really well.”

“And you’re taking care of yourself? If I ever get another text from you about being in a fucking hospital, I swear to God.”

Ashton laughs, a kind of laugh that you know is a bit uncomfortable, but he’s hearing you. “No, no, you won’t. Promise.”

“Good, I do not need a repeat.”

“No repeats. But question, is one of your dream dates still to get dressed up to go visit a museum?”

You give a pause, trying to assess with the somewhat clear picture of Ashton on your phone. You know you’d briefly mentioned it once, maybe twice. But you didn’t think it was enough for Ashton to still carry around the knowledge. You nod though at the question. “It is.”

“Why’d you say it like that? Are you getting suspicious of me?” Ashton teases.

“Maybe just a little. Can I ask why you’re asking?”

“If you must know,” Ashton starts, accent morphing into an almost decent English accent, “I am attempting to court you. Dates are a part of such activities.”

Your laughter falls easily, cheeks heating at the thought. “You do not have to say it like that,” you huff with a smile. “Is your dream date still a picnic and painting?”

“And if it is?” Ashton questions, a bit of a tease lilting his voice.

“Then I’m buying paints, good sir. As simple as that.”

“I can’t argue with that. Okay, two good things about your day? Yeah?” It’s a thing--whenever you talk to Ashton now you two share two good things about your day. It’s a nice way to break up the conversation, spin the frustration of the day into something positive. You recline into the cushion of your couch contemplating your day. After you share the good things you ask Ashton about his. Of course he mentions the show.

Conversation winds through dreams--literal and things about that you want out of life. It’s nice to just let the conversation go where it wants. Ashton mentions being inspired on tour for new scents for his candle company and you let that take you to conversations about the smells of your childhood home. Ashton teases that he’ll have to make that another scent. When you ask about the smells of Ashton’s childhood, you notice he gets a little quiet. It’s a slow answer and when it comes, you listen to all the weight he gives the words.

“Mum--she did the best she could you know. I think if I had to describe the smell of my childhood home it’d be a bit of vanilla, grass because god the house was always brimming with our ruckus.”

“Grass after it rains is a nice smell,” you offer after Ashton’s bout of silence. “We don’t have to push it. I appreciate you sharing what you did.”

“No, no, I don’t mind. Just hard sometimes.”

“I get it. It can be hard sometimes. But I appreciate you listening. It means a lot, you know? That you’re willing to let me work through it at my own pace.”

“Life’s hard enough,” you concede. “No need for me to make it harder.”

“But we have Dallas to look forward too.”

You nod. “Yes, we do have Dallas. I’m excited.”

“Good, me too.” Voices echo from further down and Ashton bids his goodbyes, sad and quiet but you ensure to send a message as follow up, I’m here, when you need to call or text or vent. Got plenty of space. You attach a picture of your bed you splayed across the queen sized mattress.

Ashton’s response comes about twenty minutes later, God, that looks comfy as hell. Thank you. A red heart is attached too.

Ashton’s not one to freak--he’s done plenty of it on his own and knows it’ll get him nowhere. But the night before the Dallas show, his phone shakes. Your name lights up across the screen. He thinks it’s just about tomorrow. Maybe an inner monologue about you trying to decide what to wear. But when the message starts with, I’m so sorry, Ashton knows it’s bad.

He doesn't even read the full thing, pushes back from the bar counter and presses to call your number. It rings, and rings, and rings in his ear. “Please pick up,” he mutters to himself.

“Hi, I’m sorry I can’t answer the phone right now. Please leave a message with your name and number and I’ll be sure to return your call,” your voicemail greets Ashton.

He listens for the beep before speaking, “Hey, it’s me, Ashton. I-I admittedly only read like two percent of your text, but I wanted to call, to see if everything is okay. Please give me a call back when you can. Please. I’m worried.”

There’s so much more to say but Ashton can’t get his tongue to cooperate so he leaves it at that and hangs up. Pushing the hair off his forehead with one hand, Ashton swipes back to your text. I’m so sorry about this. Currently at the ER and will probably be on crutches tomorrow thanks to an ill placed step on some gravel. I’ll be sure to update you and call as soon as I know for certain.

You’re hurt, but not terribly so and that’s a win. It’s not enough to quiet the thunder of Ashton’s heart. What had you done? Where had you been? He can only think to type out, Which hospital are you at? Are you going to be okay?

“Hey, Ash, everything alright?” Calum asks. His voice is soft as his question falls. Ashton’s not sure how he even catches Calum speaking if he’s honest, even as he gives a head shake no to the question. “What happened?”

“Just-I need them to text me back. Figure out how far the hospital is from here. I can think then.”

“Yeah, of course. But it sounds bad? Who’s hurt? When you get the name, I’ll see how quick we can get an Uber.”

Panic does no one any good, but Ashton’s not going to talk himself off the ledge of panic when it comes to you. He waits and waits and Calum waits with him, finally getting the pieces of your text in relation to a potential fall. The two men hover in the lobby of the hotel, drinks long forgotten by now. Though Ashton felt the waning of adrenaline leaving his body from the show just a couple hours before, he feels wired. He watches and watches his screen for it to only come alive by the shake of his hands.

I’m sure you just got done with the houston show and would probably prefer some rest. It’s a pretty bad sprain, I’ll be okay, reads the text after a long 45 minutes.

His fingers shake and he nearly can’t get a steady enough press to dial your number. The phone rings--once, then twice. Your voice is the sweetest sound he could ever hear as it floats in through the receiver, “Hi, Ashton. I’m sorry to give you such a scare, I know.”

“You’re okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Nasty fall. Really bad sprain. It’ll be annoying for the next couple of days. But I’m not dead.”

“Which hospital are you at?”

“Uh, Baylor something or another. I’m getting discharged now actually. I thought I’d be able to call after the initial run of test but they diagnosed it fast. And a lot sort of happened before I could get my hands on the phone again.”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re okay. Do you have someone that can get you back to your hotel safely?” He needs that answer to be yes. He’s not sure where you are though and that’s the thing that’s killing him. Ashton does have the name of the hotel you’re staying at, as you shared your itinerary with him earlier in the week to see if you’d be at the same hotel. Your hotel is about 10 minutes or so from his. Happenstance you both knew but right now it feels like a godsend.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got someone that can drive me.”

“I’m going to meet you there okay?” You start to protest but Ashton’s quicker. “I know you probably don’t need me. But please, just let me get eyes on you so I know you’re not going to keel over, okay?”

You sigh. “Fine, Irwin. But you better be there before me.”

A smile lifts his cheeks. “I will be. Promise.”

“Are they at Baylor University still? I got the address,” Calum offers when Ashton hangs up. “And yes, yes I was eavesdropping,” he laughs at the pull of Ashton’s brow.

Though Ashton won’t admit this, he’s glad for Calum’s care. “Nah, no, they’re about to head back to their hotel. Getting discharged now. I’m-I’m going to go there and I’ll meet up with you guys for the truck in the afternoon before it leaves for the venue.”

“Sounds good. Keep us updated though? Should anything else happen?”

“Of course, man. Of course.”

Ashton’s quick back to his room to grab his bags. They’re not many, thankfully. All the while he tracks his drivers approach on his phone as he waits at the elevator door. It’s a slow descent, or at least it feels that way but the doors open and Ashton’s back into the lobby. Just as his feet hit the concrete of the sidewalk a car eases to a stop.

“Picking up for Ashton?” the driver asks through the passenger side window.

It’s a quick ride and Ashton thanks the driver before climbing back out into the thick humid Texas air. It’s heavy on his skin but all Ashton continues to think about is getting into that lobby before you. The glass doors are heavy but they reveal a mostly quiet lobby. No one at the front desk and he settles off to the side. Ashton halfway considers calling you to see how far you are, but before the thought can blossom anymore than a hair, the doors open again.

Someone holds open the door and there’s a click and clack that’s distinctly hollow. “Thanks,” you state, working the crutches up and forward.

Not what Ashton expected but you’re whole--together, in front of him. A wrap on your left ankle. “You’re late,” Ashton huffs, a faux annoyance. But it’s all you need to grin. The ache in his ribs eases.

“I’m moving a little slower than normal.” The two of you meet in the middle, or maybe less than that as Ashton does cover more ground than you. But it’s not like you care. Though you are mindful that you are still sort of on the clock. And Ashton catches on too, when you don’t lean in for a hug or more.

“Do-do you have any bags you need me to carry?” he asks.

“Personal effects,” you tease, throwing a look over to Savannah who’s got your shoe in a plastic bag from the hospital. You take the moment though to introduce the small group you’re with--mostly other staff on the team. “Everyone, Ashton,” you conclude with a nod of your head. It’s a quick conversation to ensure you’re all okay and set to go. Once you confirm that you’re good and that Ashton won’t let you do anything to further hurt yourself, the group slowly thins.

You and Ashton remain as the others move towards either the hotel bar or the elevators. You wait, trying to ensure that the group is gone before you sigh, shoulders rounding with the action. “I hope your heart will be able to withstand the show tomorrow,” you tease.

“Oh, quit it. I’m not that old.”

“I don’t know you told you were old anyway.”

“Oh, society says it everyday. Aren’t you listening?:

“Absolutely the fuck not,” you laugh.

Ashton’s glad to hear the sound. “Yeah, I thought you might say that, let’s get you to your room yeah.”

It’s a hobble, still unsteady on the crutches a little but thankfully once you’re inside the elevator, you know it’s a quick walk to your room. Ashton retrieves the keycard from your wallet for you and holds the door open. The room is cool--like all hotel rooms seem to be as they surely must double for freezers with the temperatures they are set at. But it’s clear that maybe you hadn’t been planning to be out--your laptop’s still on the bed. Your bag rest on the lounge chair open, clothes peeking out from the depths of it.

Ashton drops his bag next to yours.

“So what happened?” he asks.

“We got back around 8 or so, a much too early night if I’m honest. So, I did a little work to pass the time. Then around 9 Devin, the stylist, asks if I want to go out and grab a couple drinks. I say yes, we’re sort of bar hopping to find the right vibe. I had like two drinks max at the bars we’d found. But on the way to another bar, coming down off the sidewalk, I just misjudged the distance or something. All I know is that I was up one minute then I was down.”

Ashton’s gentle as he kneels, taking a quiet moment to inspect your foot. “You ought to be elevating it,” he offers.

“I sort of want to change, but I need to shower too. And that’s just awkward all the way around,” you laugh. “Haven’t even taken me on a date yet and I’m already on the verge of having to ask you to help me undress because of my stupid ankle.”

“They don’t mean that,” Ashton directs to your injured joint. “And I am working on that date, you just need to give me a few months.” Though Ashton hopes he can do it sooner. Though with this injury he’s not sure if his plans of stealing you away one day during the break will pan out still.

You know you should be responding. Ashton’s gazing up at you from practically between your legs as if waiting for an instruction, but you’re too caught up in the way his face holds his beard, honey eyes dripping still as they look at you. “You’re handsome, anyone ever tell you that?”

“Some might say you just did.”

“Well, you are,” you return more confident. “You’re very handsome.” Maybe it’s just easier now. You can freely admit to such attraction because you know the possibility exist that you and Ashton have more. You know the tour is just a temporary thing, but it gives you two something to work from. Rather than just the comfort of ease and accessibility, you and Ashton have to make conscious efforts to communicate while he’s away. The discomfort makes you work. It reminds you that nothing worth having has always been easy.

Your fingers trace the line of Ashton’s jaw, from the bottom of his ear to his chin. Feels like his body is melting but he remains frozen, kneeling on the thin carpeted floor of this hotel room. It’s a sort of limbo that if Ashton were to ever work through a metaphor, he might call it the seconds in a summer blaze with ice cream. You know the ice cream won’t stay solid forever, but in the first few moments, everything is as it always will be. The ice cream will still have a shape and the sun will still have a ray, but those paths had not crossed just yet--not long enough to have an effect. Yet, Ashton knows that while he holds still now, while he waits to see if you say or do something more, he is the sun ray. He will cause an effect.

“You, however, sweetheart, are so incredibly dangerous,” Ashton whispers.

“I haven’t done anything.”

“Besides absolutely wiping out and being a danger to your literal self, I do have to say that you are dangerous because if you keep scratching at my beard like this you are going to open a whole new can of worms that we will not be able to get back inside.”

You know it’s a warning. You don’t think you want to heed it though. “Just a kiss?” you ask.

Will it ever be just a kiss, Ashton does not know. “You speak of me undressing you to shower and change and rest your ankle that is still injured by the way, and ask for just a kiss?”

You nod. “Yeah, just a kiss.”

Ashton pushes up, hand capturing your cheek as his lips capture yours. Your lips taste a bit sour, maybe the drink or two you’d mentioned before. But Ashton thinks he could swallow the taste and tattoo it into his lungs. He would tattoo it into his lungs if such a thing were possible.

You swear you’ve never been held in such a more confident and gentle way as Ashton pulls up closer into your body. His hands find your waist, a grip that pushes into the flesh of you that makes you whimper. It’s a pathetic sound and you can’t help but laugh at yourself, interrupting the kiss. Your kiss ends with an echoing pant between the two of you, nose to nose as you hold his face between your palms.

“You can make fun of me for that later, understand?” you huff.

Ashton’s laughter falls out more like a groan when you brush your hands down his chest. “I don’t really think I have ground to talk, so.” Ashton presses another kiss, lighter, but still long against your lips. “I just--I’m a little ill prepared to go any further tonight.”

“Are you, Ashton Irwin, rockstar and drummer for the hottest band, 5 Seconds of Summer, telling me that you do not have condoms?” you snort.

“It may be that. In all fairness, the spare I had I had to end up passing along to a couple of the other guys so, it’s not that I didn’t have them.”

“You just don’t have anymore,” you conclude for him.

“Exactly.”

“No worries. My spare expired, so same boat. Besides, I did ask only for a kiss.”

“That you surely did. And I think this is our last stop on this train lest we decide to risk it tonight.”

You giggle, fingers playing just a little at the hair at the nape of Ashton’s neck. “I think this is my stop anyway.”

“Can I ask for one more kiss though?” Ashton’s grin is small and sheepish, like he knows he’s asking for something he shouldn’t. But you can’t say no as you capture his lips one last time. It’s softer now, rather than holding for fear of life lost, now you know you can taste and taste without worrying about losing your chance.

Though it should be awkward to get yourself changed and cleaned up, you find that it’s easy. Undoubtedly, it’s intimate to have Ashton help you get your pants on and off, but it’s easy to laugh and converse around your work. By the time you’re both settled in for the night, your leg slightly elevated thanks to some of the spare pillows, the blue hue of the TV screen is just an accent to you and Ashton’s laughter,

“You had to have a crush on at least one cartoon character,” you huff.

“No, I’m normal.”

“Ashton, you are anything but normal. So just fess up. Was it Lola Bunny?”

Ashton laughs. “No, it was not Lola Bunny. Who even is that?”

You ignore Ashton’s question and pry for an answer listing Roxanne from A Goofy Movie as another potential. It gets shot down immediately. “C’mon, Irwin! Just give me an answer.”

Your response is only Ashton pressing a kiss to your cheek with an adamant but giggled filled, “Goodnight.”

It’s not what you imagined how the first time you shared a bed Ashton would go, but you can’t think to change anything about it now. It’d always be a story to tell, one to hold close to your heart in the future. You reach over, finding Ashton’s hand easily under the cover. His response is immediate as he threads his fingers through yours.

The TV remains on, a quiet hum and over the soft music of some commercial you’re sure you catch the rumble of a snore. “Thanks, for being here,” you offer. Even if Ashton is still asleep you need to say it.

“You’re more than welcome.”

#ashton irwin #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin blurb #ashton irwin imagine #5sos #5 seconds of summer #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos blurb #5 seconds of summer blurb #5 seconds of summer imagine #calum hood #michael clifford #luke hemmings

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ashleftstick · 2 days ago

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In the Heat of You (Ash)

The air between you and Ashton feels thick, charged with something unspoken. It’s the kind of tension that hums in the silence, a pull that neither of you can ignore. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, the moonlight filtering through the curtains, casting soft shadows across his face. But there’s nothing soft about the way he’s looking at you.

His gaze is dark, intense, like he’s trying to read you, to decode something inside you, but it’s clear there’s more on his mind than just figuring you out. His body is tense, his jaw set tight, and every time his eyes flick to your lips, you feel your pulse quicken, a spark of heat running through you.

It’s the quiet after the chaos of the tour, and for the first time in a long while, it’s just the two of you—alone in a room, with no distractions. But this silence... it feels like it’s about to crack.

You can’t stand it anymore.

“Ashton,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. You know he’s listening, can feel every muscle in his body tuned to your voice. “What’s going on with you tonight?”

He lets out a slow breath, eyes never leaving yours. His hands, resting on his knees, are clenched tight. You can feel the energy between you—raw, untamed, thick with something deeper. He doesn’t answer immediately, and the pause stretches long, the tension building with each second that passes.

Finally, his voice breaks the silence, low and gravelly. “I’m trying not to lose control.”

You lean forward, your heart pounding in your chest, the words igniting something in you. "Control over what?" you ask, your breath catching in your throat.

He shifts, a slight movement that feels like a warning. “You,” he admits, his voice rougher now, edged with frustration. “Every time I’m near you, it’s like I can’t breathe. I can’t think. And I—” He cuts himself off with a sharp exhale, standing abruptly. The air between you crackles with the shift, the space between you now brimming with heat and restraint.

He turns to face the window, his back to you, his shoulders tense. You can see the muscles in his back ripple under the fabric of his shirt, and it drives a new kind of hunger in you—an ache deep in your chest. You know what he means, feel the same pull, the same desperate desire. But you’re not sure how much longer you can wait for him to make the first move.

“Why don’t you just let go?” you challenge softly, your voice a little daring, a little breathless. “You don’t have to fight it anymore. I’m here.”

Ashton spins back around to face you, his eyes dark and stormy, his body vibrating with tension. The look in his eyes sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. Without another word, he closes the distance between you in a heartbeat, his hands gripping the sides of your face, tilting your head back with a fierce urgency.

And then, he kisses you.

It’s not soft. It’s not gentle. It’s desperate, hungry, a collision of lips and heat. His mouth crashes against yours, his hands pulling you to him so fast that you gasp. The kiss is bruising, intense, every part of him demanding and consuming. His tongue slips into your mouth, stroking and tasting, as if he’s trying to drink you in.

You kiss him back with everything inside you, your hands finding their way to his chest, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him even closer. His breath is ragged against your lips, each exhale a sound of frustration and want. You can feel the muscles in his arms tense, like he’s holding back from doing something more, something that might break you both apart in the best way.

His hands slide down your back, pulling you flush against him, and the heat of his body makes your heart race. You can feel him—feel the hard, undeniable evidence of how much he wants you. The tension between your bodies is explosive, and it’s all you can do not to completely lose yourself in him.

Ashton pulls away for a split second, his forehead resting against yours, both of you panting, trying to catch your breath. “I need you,” he breathes, the words barely a whisper, but they strike like lightning in the stillness of the room. “God, I can’t think about anything else. All I can think about is you.”

You exhale shakily, your hands trailing down his chest, the desire between you two more than you can handle. The pressure is building, and you know you’re both on the edge of something that could consume you both completely.

Without thinking, you tug at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over his head. The moment the fabric leaves his body, you feel the warmth of his skin under your fingertips, and your body responds instantly, an electric pulse running through you.

Ashton lets out a low, tortured sound at the touch, and his hands fly to your waist, pulling you closer, if that’s even possible, the heat between you intensifying. His lips are on you again—this time slower, deeper, more insistent as his hands slide up your back, guiding you into a rhythm that matches the frantic beat of your heart.

"Don’t hold back," you breathe against his lips, your hands gripping the sides of his face as you pull him closer. "Not now. Not ever."

The words break something inside him. Ashton groans against your lips, a sound of raw need, and the last of his restraint shatters. He kisses you again, this time with an intensity that feels like it might set you both on fire. His hands roam across your body, every touch, every caress setting your skin alight. He’s not asking anymore—he’s taking, and you’re giving, both of you drowning in the raw need of it all.

The world outside doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters is Ashton. The heat, the need, the burning tension between you. It’s everything. And as his hands slide under your shirt, you know, without a doubt, that nothing will ever feel as electric as this.

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irwinsblender · 7 months ago

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inner demons

a/n: i’ve written this over the span of a few weeks bc my mental health has been down the drain recently and i needed an outlet. i wasn’t sure about uploading this, but here it is anyway

also used these pictures of ashton bc that’s how i imagine he’d look when listening to you rant about how you’re feeling

pairing: ashton x reader

summary: your mental health has been getting worse again and ashton is there to try and help you through it

warnings: depression, self harm, reference to suicide - and please, if you find any of these triggering, don’t read this fic

word count: 3k

✩ ✩ ✩

winter was one of the worst times of year for you. specifically, for your mental health. the dreary, rainy and cloudy weather, days becoming dark hours earlier than in the summer was always hard on you.

your mental health was bad already. you’d been suffering with depression for quite a long time now. it first started at school when you couldn’t deal with exams along with certain horrible people in your classes, that seemed to linger for a few years after you graduated.

just when you thought things were getting better, the pandemic hit, causing you to relapse and become worse than before. you didn’t know how to deal with all of the terrible thoughts that were constantly going around your head, including thoughts telling you to hurt yourself.

and you did, you turned to that to help you cope with feeling so exhausted. in the end, it didn’t really help. but you had nothing else to help you.

until you met ashton irwin. your now boyfriend.

you’d never met anyone as caring as him. he always listened to anything you had to say, he was there for you when you needed to rant; most of all, he didn’t leave after you told him about your struggles.

in fact, he empathised with you. telling you about his struggles and ways he tried to get through them. he promised then and there that he would always be there to support you and would never judge you for any of your thoughts or emotions.

you always appreciated ashton, but you found it hard to tell him when you were beginning to struggle more again. you felt pathetic not being able to cope on your own, you felt like a burden in his life every time you had to involve him in your problems.

this was one of those times.

it had been a long day, or at least it felt like it had been. it was raining all day, something you hated. you hadn’t been able to get out of bed, you hadn’t eaten, only had a drink of water which ashton brought to you before he left the house earlier in the day.

you’d been sitting in the bathroom for the past hour with the door locked. you’d told ashton you were going to have a shower, but, you never got that far. ashton would’ve noticed that the noise of the shower never started, but he’s always been respectful to leave you to whatever you need to do.

it was different this time though. it was too quiet. he was sat in the living room, planning on cooking you both a nice dinner. however, you’d been acting different today. you’d been quiet, not as cheerful as usual when he arrived home from being elsewhere.

you were sat on the closed toilet, leaning against the counter as tears fell down your face. deciding if you were going to do what your mind had been telling you to do. you didn’t want to hurt yourself again, but what choice did you have? nothing else helped. it was practically staring you in the face from where you’d placed the sharp object on the counter.

you looked down at your arms, marks from a couple of weeks ago that were starting to heal properly. marks you hadn’t told ashton about. ashton knew you struggled more at this time of year; he’d been busy recently with work, he hadn’t had time to notice things going even more downhill.

while you were contemplating your choices, ashton had been making his way upstairs. he decided that maybe you needed some company with showering. you told him previously that you find it comforting showering together, so that’s what he’d do.

he entered the bedroom, still hearing no movement. he tried to go into the bathroom, met with the door not budging. just the handle twisting. he couldn’t open the door. you’d locked it.

“sweetheart?” he called out, sudden worry washing over him. “you okay in there?”

you’d jumped at the sound of him trying to open the door, you don’t usually lock it, but it was necessary this time. you didn’t answer him, trying to muffle your cries.

“baby? please answer me,” you could hear the frustration and fear in his tone. “i’m here for you, i’m not going anywhere.”

“i’m fine, ash,” you sniffled. “just leave me alone.”

it came out harsher than you meant it to. your emotions playing a part. you never ask him to leave you alone. that only happened when you were in this kind of situation.

“i’m not leaving,” ashton replied. “talk to me, please, i’m here, whatever you need.”

you let out an accidental loud cry, placing your head in your hands as you couldn’t hold back your cries any longer. you were in so much pain it was hard to handle.

ashton’s heart broke hearing the way you were crying. why hadn’t he noticed you weren’t as happy as normal, why hadn’t he noticed your depression taking a toll again. he should’ve noticed.

“can you open the door, baby?” he asked, trying his luck before he’d have to figure something else out.

“no,” you said with a gasp, your crying almost uncontrollable as you moved to pick the object up from the counter.

your shaky hands weren’t helping, causing you to drop it, making a clanging noise as it hit the floor. you knew ashton would’ve heard it, he would’ve put two and two together. you couldn’t pick it up, crying even harder.

ashton was going through his nightstand already, trying to find the outside key for the bathroom door. he was panicking by now, frantically trying to find it, worried when he didn’t come upon it instantly. until, a light caught his eye on the dresser.

the light reflecting on the key, he quickly picked it up, going back to the bathroom door. he slid the key into the lock, twisting it two times until he heard it click.

he pushed it open, causing you to quickly try and turn away, rushing to pull the sleeves of your hoodie down before he could see anything. you wiped your eyes on your sleeves instead, only glancing over to him for a second.

ashton looked to you first, he couldn’t miss the way you pulled at your sleeves, he looked to the ground, seeing the razor there, but it was clean which gave him slight relief.

he moved it out of the way, walking to you slowly, crouching down beside you. he placed one hand on your knee, caressing his thumb back and fourth, the other on your waist.

“i’m here, baby, i’m here now,” he tried to reassure. “what do you need?”

you shook your head, you couldn’t even look at him. you felt pathetic, like a disgrace. you couldn’t look your own boyfriend in the eye because you were embarrassed about how badly you were handling things.

ashton saw the expression on your face, it was too familiar. the same a couple of years ago, when you were struggling, when you had been harming yourself. he knew what was going on now.

“it’s okay if you’re not doing okay, love,” he said, cupping your cheek in one of his hands, wiping away your tears.

“i’m fine,” you bluntly responded. “i’m always fine, everything is always just fine.”

your hurt started turning into slight anger. angry with yourself, angry with the way you kept going around in circles with your mental health. you got a little better, and then things always became worse. it’s the same thing over and over and over.

“baby—“

“just leave me alone,” you folded your arms, pushing his hands away from you. not thinking straight with the other thoughts clouding your mind.

“i don’t want you to be alone,” ashton softly replied, trying to keep calm in this situation. “you don’t have to go through this alone.”

“i’m handling it,” you tried to get a subtle look behind ashton, trying to find where the razor was. if you could just get him to leave—

“angel,” he got your attention. knowing that nickname would stop you from whatever else you’re thinking about. “you know it’s okay if you aren’t doing good, this isn’t something that will instantly go away, there are ups and downs and that’s okay. wherever you’re at now, i’m here to help you through it.”

you cried harder at that. everything was hurting. you were exhausted with life. you didn’t want to keep living like this.

“i’m sorry,” you cried, holding your hands over your face. “i’m so sorry.”

“hey, hey, it’s okay, why are you sorry?” ashton asked, standing himself up as he took your hands in his.

“i— i did it again,” you blubbered. taking a breath to try and control your crying. ashton didn’t know what you were talking about. “i know i said i’d talk to you if i felt that bad again, but i just— i couldn’t bring myself to tell you.”

then it clicked. he knew what you meant. locking yourself in the bathroom, the razor you’d dropped on the floor. you’d been self harming again.

“you don’t have to apologise for that, baby,” he sighed. “it’s not something easy to talk about, please don’t feel like you need to say sorry to me.”

you were quiet after he said that. trying not to keep crying the way you were while also trying to figure out what to say next. his hands were still in yours, not planning on letting go any time soon.

“i thought things were getting better,” you complained honestly. “i was happy travelling with you the last two months, and as soon as we got home everything started crashing down on me.”

“being on tour was a big distraction for you, a new city every night, seeing places you’ve never been before, you didn’t have time to think about anything else,” ashton reminded. “now we’re home, there’s days where we have nothing going on, it gives your mind time to overthink and for those bad thoughts to come back.”

you didn’t say anything after that, ashton could tell it wasn’t helping with you sitting in the bathroom, the razor behind him on the floor. he pulled at your hands softly, urging you to stand with him. thankfully you did, walking with him as he lead you through to the bedroom. he took you over to the bed, only letting go of your hands so he could sit back against the headboard.

“come here, love,” he held one arm out, waiting for you to get comfortable.

you sat down, shuffling over to him. your head resting against his shoulder, his arm around you to keep you close. he pressed a delicate kiss to your cheek, causing you to look up at him.

“i don’t know what to do,” you suddenly spoke. ashton allowing you to get your thoughts out. “this feels never ending, it feels like there’s no way out apart from—“

“baby,” he cut you off before you could finish your sentence. he knew what you were going to say, but he didn’t want to hear it come out of your mouth. “i know it’s hard, and i hate that you’re feeling like this again. you deserve so much happiness and i wish there was more i could do to take your pain away.”

“it hurts, ash,” you started to cry again, tears dropping down your cheeks continuously. “everything hurts so bad.”

he pulled you tighter against his chest, one hand on the back of your head, slowly running through your hair. he pressed soft kisses to your forehead every few moments, trying to let you know how much he loved you and that he was right there with you through this.

as your crying started to calm down, ashton took one of your hands in his, stretching out your arm slightly. you looked up at him, wondering what he was doing.

“can i see?” he asked.

you weren’t sure at first, but eventually nodded your head. he gently pulled up your sleeve, each mark, scar and any new cuts revealing themselves to him. you sighed seeing the upset look on his face.

“they’re horrible,” you sniffled. tugging your arm away from him. “i’m sorry.”

“they aren’t horrible, baby,” ashton held your hand. he ran his thumb over a couple of old scars, then he lifted your arm up, pressing kisses along the length of it. “they show strength. it shows you’ve been strong enough to fight to stay in this world.”

you didn’t know how he could see it like that. in your own head, it showed how weak you were, how bad you were at coping with life.

“you’re the strongest person i know,” ashton continued, pulling your sleeve back down as he kept your hand in his. “it takes strength to admit you aren’t doing good, so i’m proud of you for telling me.”

“i don’t know what to do, ash,” you slouched further into his grip, cheek pressed against his chest. “nothing’s getting better, i don’t know what to do to get better. this cycle is becoming too much to deal with.”

ashton could’ve cried hearing you say that. knowing the person he loved is feeling so defeated broke his heart. he would do anything it takes to make you feel better, to try and help you.

“i’m here for you, baby,” he stroked his hand softly through your hair. “anything you need me to do, just say the word, i promise i will always be here for you.”

“i don’t know what else will help,” you sniffled. “therapy didn’t work, the meds made me feel worse, there’s nothing else. i have nothing else.”

“you have me,” ashton cupped your cheek in his hand, lifting your head to look at him. “if you want me to listen, if you need advice, if you want me to distract you, or if you just want me to hold you while you cry, i'll be here. no matter what.”

he leaned down, kissing your forehead before pecking your lips a few times in a row. finally getting a small smile out of you. if he could see your smile every day, his life would be complete. that’s all he wanted. for you to be happy.

“i’m sorry for being like this again,” you sighed. not holding eye contact. “i don’t know how you put up with me.”

“i’m not putting up with this,” ashton shook his head. “i care about you, more than anything, i’ll do whatever it takes to make this a little easier for you to get through, because you can get through it.”

you shuffle down, your head resting on his stomach as you close your eyes. tired out from the chaos of your own mind.

“we could take a few trips,” ashton suggested. “you love travelling. i know you still have that list of places you want to visit.”

“i do, but…” you paused, opening your eyes as you squeezed ashton’s hand in yours. “what happens when we come home? i’ll just be like this again.”

“we’ll try and find other things for you to enjoy,” ashton was determined to stay positive in this situation. “you love to draw, you love to create art, and i’ve seen the way you watch me play the drums and guitar. i could teach you, give you something else to put your mind to.”

you thought for a moment, wiping your sleeves over your eyes one last time. you couldn’t believe ashton still wanted to bother with trying after how difficult and negative you always were in this situation.

“okay,” you mumbled. ashton was surprised to hear that you’ll do this. “i don’t know if it’ll help, but i’ll try.”

“that’s a start,” ashton smiled. “the best thing you can do is try. even if it takes time.”

you nodded. finally looking up at him. you shuffled yourself upwards, capturing his lips in a unexpected but loving kiss. placing your hand on his cheek softly as you pull away.

“how would you feel about getting a guitar?” he asked, hands on your waist pulling you to straddle him. “i know how much you love painting, we could buy some paint for it so you can make it your own.”

“i could paint little flowers on it,” you excitedly suggested. “and maybe some butterflies too, that would look pretty.”

ashton nodded in agreement, just happy that you were willing to do this to see if it’ll help having your mind preoccupied with something like learning how to play an instrument. he hoped this would help, hating seeing you hurting like this.

“well, the band has no plans on making new music just yet,” ashton tucked your hair behind your ears. “we could take a trip soon… italy maybe?”

“really? you want go to italy before going back to australia?” you asked, one of your bucket list places, knowing how much he wanted to head back to australia after tour ended.

“australia can wait, i want to make sure you’re okay first.”

you let out a long breath, leaning towards him to wrap your arms around his neck, his arms around your back as he hugged you as close to him as he could get you. he kissed your cheek, making sure you knew he would always be there for moments like this.

“i love you,” he said quietly. “remember i’ll always be here, for anything you need. you don’t have to go through this alone.”

“i don’t know what i’d do without you,” you held him tighter. “i love you, ash.”

a few more tears threatened to leave your eyes as you hugged. you truly didn’t think you’d be here anymore if ashton hadn’t come into your life when he did. and now he can be your anchor that grounds you and gives you a reason to try and live this life, no matter how tough it might be.

✩ ✩ ✩

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#5sos #5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin imagines #5sos fic #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #ashton irwin fluff #5sos fanfic #5sos x reader #irwinsblender writes

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bartxnhood · 1 year ago

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why won’t you love me? a.f.i & c.t.h

calum hood x fem!reader, ashton irwin x fem! reader.

summary: after finding out calum had left you, ashton came to your rescue but he had his own secret

warnings: oh god there’s so much angst, strong language, angst, and did i mention angst? oh and no happy ending.

a/n: hi guys !! it’s been a while song i had an original work but this is all for my 5sos ppl <3. i hope you enjoy !! feedback is appreciated !!

disclaimer: this in no way shape or form represents calum hood as a person. this is strictly fiction and written for entertainment purposes. thank you.

requests open

not proofread

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you stared out the passenger window feeling like you had just lost everything in your body. the only thing you felt was numbness. no pain, no sadness, nothing. you had cried out all your tears, you were left numb

ashton looks over at you from the driver's seat, his heart aches knowing how hurt you are, and how he made you like this. it broke him. ashton was your best friend and he tried to do everything in his power to be there for you and protect you.

but he just couldn’t protect you from this. from him.

“stop blamin yourself.” you manage to get out, looking over your shoulder at him. he looks confused, you had been silent the whole car ride and he was sure how you know his thoughts without him verbally telling you.

“what?” he questioned.

“you’re blaming yourself for this” you stated, followed by a drawn-out sigh and looking back towards the window. “you always do it when something happens. you couldn’t have known he’d do this.” you hear him sigh, but it was a long drawn one. “i should’ve thought. i was there, i was on tour. i could’ve stopped him. i just..” you hear the frustration in his voice and it makes you feel so small.

“ash..” you trail off but he interjects, “no, y/n!” he punches the steering wheel, “i had all the opportunity to stop him if i had just known he..that he’d do that to you i wouldn’t have let him do it.” his voice breaks, a lump getting caught in his throat.

“stop it, ashton.” you sit up in the passenger seat, now facing him. “i..” you breathe, feeling that lump in your own throat now. “it isn’t your fault, you couldn’t have known.” you drop your head into your hands. tears want to fall but you had cried out everything in your body. “he’s… he's always been this way. i should’ve known better than to trust him being gone for most of the year.”

you watched as his knuckles turned white, gripping the steering wheel. ashton shook his head, “no..it just isn’t fair to you.” he was beyond mad, he was furious. he’s pissed that his best friend, or who he thought was, would do something like that to someone as precious as you were. “i know, ash. but there’s nothing we can do now. it’s done.”

calum loved you. at least, he thought he did. he bought you a ring, thinking it was the right call. he loves your laugh in the middle of the night when he made a stupid joke, he loves how much you admired his work and supported him.

he loved how you looked when you went out to a party. how you’d dress up for him. but deep down he wasn’t in love with you. deep down he knew his heart belonged to someone else.

his distance began to become noticeable after a couple of months. it seemed he had already checked himself out of the relationship a while ago. you were left self-conscious wondering why he didn’t love you anymore, or why he abandoned you, mentally.

you knew something was going on with him, but you never thought it would be something that would ruin your relationship or what the two of you had planned.

you weren’t expecting the call from your best friend, brandy, to call you one morning saying she was sorry you had to find out like this.

you looked at the link she sent you which had detailed photos of your fiancé and another woman, spotted many times.

in that moment, everything fell into place. his absence, how he suddenly didn’t treat you like his partner anymore. it was because he was seeing someone behind your back, actively.

“cal?” you speak up, walking outside to the patio where he sat smoking a cigarette.

“hm?” he hums, looking up from his phone eyebrows slightly raised.

“what’s this?” you question as you shove your phone into his face.

he takes a moment to examine the pictures and you see the look of realization and relief wash over his face. “well?” you interrogated.

“who told you?”

you blink, laughing dryly. “brandy just called me”

“oh.” he answers, then falling silent and goes back to his phone.

“‘oh’? is that really all you have to say?” you ask, turning your phone off and stuffing it into your pocket.

“what do you want me to say?” he asks, not bothering to look at you.

“that’s it i’m leaving.” you say, walking back inside from the patio

he’s silent, staring at his cigarette. “where are you going?”

“anywhere but here. i’ll call ashton.”

he scoffs, taking a long drag of the cigarette and blowing the smoke from his lips. “it’s always ashton” he says under his breath.

you soon around and stare blankly at him, “what?” unable to even come up with the right words.

calum looks at you with cold eyes, “it’s always ashton. you’re always by his side or he’s always by yours.” he dunks the cigarette in the ashtray putting it out. “pretty sure you were screwing him behind my back”

you dryly laugh, “i gave you my life calum hood, and you ruined it. i trusted you with everything in me because that’s what a good fiancée does. she trusts her partner to not cheat on her while he’s on tour!”

he laughs dryly running his hand over his head. “just tell me, cal” you’re mindlessly throwing stuff into your suitcase. “tell me why is it so hard for you to love me back? why won’t you love me? i’ve given you everything.”

“i never asked you to give me everything.” he’s looking away from you, sighing heavily. “it’s not that i don’t love you. i can’t love you”

you stare at him blankly, mascara staining your cheeks. you felt like your heart had been ripped out, looking at the man you thought you had loved. the man you wanted to give everything to. “what?” you blink, and he finally looks up at you. “i can’t love you, because i love her. she’s the one i want to be with. it’s always been her, y/n….” he pauses,“i tried loving you. but you just aren’t her.”

you cover your mouth, in shock. unable to comprehend his words which struck you like a knife. “i can’t believe you..” you muttered through your tears as your turned around and began your way upstairs to the bedroom.

you can feel him following you a few steps behind, his eyes linger on your figure as you mindlessly threw clothes into your duffle bag. just enough to do you for a couple nights until you can get the rest of your stuff. “they warned me about you..and i should’ve listened” you say, not bothering to look at him.

“who?” he asks coldly. you turn around, meeting his dark eyes staring into your soul. “everyone. luke…ashton…your sister…mike..everyone.” you say, closing the duffel bag. “just don’t even worry about it now. we’re done.”

you grab the bag and begin walking past him. but, you pause looking down at your hand where the ring lays. you turn around and throw it at him. “i never want to see you again.”

he watched as you proceeded down the stairs where you exited the house. finding ashton waiting in the driveway.

ashton watched as you sat on the sofa, brows furrowed while staring at your empty ring finger. “it’s late” he says, coming up behind you. you just shrug, “can’t sleep” you hear him sigh and he walks around the sofa to take a seat next to you. you see him peer around, brushing your hair from your face. “talk to me..” he whispers.

you finally look up at him showing the makeup staining your face. “i don’t know what to say..” you croak.

he nods, “i have the guest bedroom ready for you, the bathroom is set with towels and-“ he starts but you cut him off, the pain in your chest is too great. the excruciating pain you felt every time your heart pumped made you want to throw something, you felt like your whole world was crumbling.

“i can’t be alone” you shake your head looking at him, “i..i can’t. i’m gonna go crazy..” he nods, hushing your cries. “shh, it’s okay..shh..” he pulls you in and holds you close to him. “just breathe.”

he holds you for as long as you need, his heart aches at each broken sob you let out. he holds you as tight as he can he can’t stand to see you like this.

ashton loves you. it is so easy for him to love you that it frightens him. he’s never been good at anything. but hes never wanted anything so much as he wants to hold you every waking minute. he’s at home when you’re around, he feels himself falling more and more in love with you.

ashton knows it’s wrong, he knows he shouldn’t feel this way when you’re in so much pain. he knows it’s selfish to think of himself as a savior. but he knows he isn’t.

you’re suffering and all he can think about is how much he loves you.

“cmon, we need to get you ready for bed..” he says into your hair, quietly. you nod and let him help you off the chair into the master bathroom. he sits you on the toilet as he gets you some extra clothes and towels. you sit there emotionless and when ashton returns he looks down at you, reaching for a rag, baby wipe, or something to take your makeup off with.

he succeeds, finding some makeup removers and then bends down to your level. “can i?” he asks and you nod. he nods back, opens the package takes out a wipe, and begins cleaning off your day-old makeup. you say nothing and he says nothing. just carefully removing the makeup with his gentle touch. he thought that even though you are exhausted, in pain, and very miserable you still look so beautiful.

“i’ll run the water now, i’ll leave you to get cleaned up,” he says as he stands up throwing away the used makeup remover towelette. you nod, watching as he turns the water on and connects the shower head. “if you need anything, i’ll be right outside.” he smiles, closing the door behind him.

you didn’t know how long you were sitting there, you don’t even remember undressing and stepping into the shower.

you were probably in there for close to an hour, just standing there but ashton waited for you. he occupied himself with his phone but it didn’t do much considering he was so worried for you.

when he heard the door unlock and open, his eyes shot up from the phone screen and landed on you.

you had looked so defeated, your hair was still damp and dripping on some of the clothes he had given you.

“feel better?”

you shrug, walking over and plopping down next to him on the bed. “i don’t know..” you answer just above a whisper. he nods, sighing as he stands up from the bed. “well, i’ll let you be. i’ll be across the hall-“

you cut him off, “no” you look up at him. “please, just stay. like old times.” he looks hesitant but ashton walks back over to the bed and crawls back on the bed. “of course” he says softly.

“i’d never leave you”

you continued to stay with ashton for the next few months, even though you were searching for an apartment he still insisted on having you stay. one, because he loved your company and he had just gotten so used to you being around.

he watched you heal, he helped you heal and honestly, you just weren’t ready to be alone just yet. so, he let you stay for as long as you wanted.

life had slowly begun to improve, ashton kept you afloat and made sure you were safe. he didn’t let you go one day without making sure you were doing something to occupy your mind, so you don’t slip into your mind.

often times you were sat next to ashton in the studio as you occasionally help him write songs the guys had started. you didn’t have the talents like the other four, but ashton would ask your opinion and even using some of your ideas.

you sat bored on your phone, eventually dropping it to your lap as you stare at ashton’s back as he was humming melodies to himself. you stare at all of the papers sprawled out on the table and floor, your brows furrowed reading some scribbles that were supposed to be lyrics. your eyes land on a piece of paper with the lyrics, We're together, all alone tonight So helpless from the other side So why won't you love me?

you feel tightness in your chest, your eyes gloss over with tears. all the memories of you and calum flood back and you. you drop the paper and ashton hears your sniffles and he looks up.

he’s met with your swollen and puffy eyes, “y/n?” you look up at him, and break down. broken sobs filled the studio as he rushes to your side “what is it?” he asks wrapping his arms around you, letting you cry into his chest. “why won’t he love me?” you say, followed by a loud sob stuck in your throat. “why couldn’t he love me?”

you continue to ramble incoherent sobs and ashton tries his best to soothe you. but, he knows he can’t fix everything.

you deserve so much better, even if ashton isn’t what you need. he will always love you. as he’s rubbing your back, hearing your broken sobs he feels heartbroken and helpless.

“i love you..” he says quietly into your hair.

“i love you too, ash” you say, sniffling.

ashton falls silent for a moment before sighing. “no, y/n. listen to me” he pulls you away from his chest, his hands on either side of your face as his thumbs while away your tears. “i love you” he’s looking into your eyes now, and you don’t know how to take what he’s telling you.

“i’m not asking you to love me more than just your friend, but you need to know that i do love you. you’ve been the only constant in my life, y/n. you deserve the best, even if it isn’t me. i’m not asking you to do anything you don’t want to, but you need to know.”

ashton knew it was wrong of him to drop the ball on your so suddenly, after calling it off with calum just a few months ago. ashton was sure you probably would hate him after this but he needed to get it off his chest or else he might explode.

“ash..” you sigh, your eyes close and had only hoped that this was some kind of joke, because if he had told you before getting serious with calum, you feel even more crushed hearing the confession spill from your best friends lips.

“im sorry. i really am, and i know you don’t want another relationship but i will always wait for you..” ashton follows, still looking into your eyes.

you fall silent for a moment, admiring his hazel eyes while your heart continues to ache with each beat.

“y/n?” you don’t answer, you just sigh as you shake your head. “just.. just hold me ashton. please.”

ashton pulls you in, letting your head rest against his shoulder and his finger draws circles on your back. you close your eyes, your mind is racing and you just want to turn it off.

“im sorry, y/n..” ashton’s says quietly.

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