#Calum series

[kindahoping4forever]

Via Rock Sound's 25 Icons Series

[carryonafi]

where did the party go.

ashton irwin x reader; ANGST

a/n: heyyy lovers!! 2 posts in a row (almost) whaaat!! i’ve been working recently because i just went through my entire google docs and sorted everything out 😭 this is something i’ve been working on for quite some time now and requires a little bit of backstory. there will be another part to this series, and possibly a third? let me know if you want to hear about some of the key moments in the 2013–2016 period! so without further ado, this is part one of “where did the party go.”! 🤍

content warnings: sexual innuendos, heavy drinking, smoking, mentions of declining mental health

words: 2.4k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

background: Your relationship with Ashton has been public ever since the beginning, starting in 2013 and continuing to flow and experience the life of 5 Seconds of Summer all the way until the band went on a break at the end of 2016. During those years, you took on the struggles that Ashton and the rest of the band faced which left them all having you as a permanent resident in their life. However, your relationship becomes rocky when Ashton refuses to communicate until the very moment he can’t take it anymore. His impulsive decision leads to you moving out, yet still being in his life because of the others and their friendship with you.

— POV: Ashton —

I could see nothing beyond her. Of course she would be here… of course. Heart stuck in my throat, I turned my attention away from her as soon as she started to look in my direction. We had ended. Months ago, yet I still couldn’t pull myself out of the mindset that she was still mine. I was still waking up next to her every morning, head on the fluffy pillow she claimed when we first moved in and hovering over the shadow of her figure in our bed. Yes, it was still our bed. It would always be. Everywhere I went she followed me whether it be the scent of the hair mist which stuck to the bathroom tile, the fluffy blankets she had chosen for the house, a few products left behind like she was coming back… she wouldn’t.

The music was bass heavy, rattling the table which in turn shook the floor and bounced off of the walls, reverberating in the guest’s ears. In the house I was suffocated, wanting and feeling like a beggar when I so much as looked her way.

“It’ll be like the iHeart Radio night all over again!” Michael made the comment, the rest of the group lightheartedly laughing despite the known tension. I left the circle almost immediately after that, not being able to bear hearing her sickeningly sweet giggle as she clung to any one of my friends besides me. I secretly wished the same, just over a year ago we were sharing smiles at each other and trying each other’s drinks, unable to separate as we made our way to the escort and back to the hotel in a blur.

The back porch brought an odd comfort to me, it was a change of pace from all of the lights inside. Calm, soft, warm yellow lanterns and fairy lights above proudly grown ferns. Although I did feel like an asshole for exiting at a time when people were talking to me, I just couldn’t handle the voices that weren’t her’s. I couldn’t handle her’s either. The vast green soothed me and the euphoria of a deep breath from a joint hit quickly, the blue smoke wandered together, then parted once hitting a certain point in the air. When it couldn’t carry the oxygen anymore. Familiar… Maybe. Maybe that’s why there were now tears obstructing my vision.

A sudden rush of consciousness and self pity struck my senses, cutting deep and forcing me to stand up off of the porch and make my way back inside the house within seconds. Hours felt like seconds and once enclosed, nothing was real. Not the people, not the music, not the house which was once our’s and now holding me alone, not the slow drift of which my rationality began to slip.

“Come on, Ash…”

She was real, though. Touching me, feeling for the stairs with her high heels, whispering words that I couldn’t understand— I went weak. I let her hold my weight, and her soft touch was replaced with a mattress. Clouds. Heaven. She was down with me, pitifully listening to me stutter apologies through tears and a lack of sobriety, begging her to let me hold her one last time before she found better. I mumbled with full confidence that I loved her. I loved nothing more than my weakness.

“I… I can’t.” She uttered those words which was the only blur I remembered hearing, it had to be the worst of it. Not her reassurance or her hushing my pathetic tears, I had to remember what she had pledged herself to. She wasn’t coming back.

Her dress was in my arms during the hours until I woke up, like she had vanished with all that was left being her clothing and a sweater missing from my closet. Everything came creeping in pieces, coming back with each step I took down the party soaked stairs. One led me to her hands, the next led me to her voice, breathing my name and encouragement to help me, then my knees led me to the hardwood of the living space. It was impossible to exist without thinking of her, from the moment I’d wake up it would be torture right away. I wasn’t lying next to her figure. I wasn’t waking up and rolling over to the side, her small, warm frame snuggling up to mine making soft hums and mews in her sleep. The smell of her hair, the freckles lightly dusting her cheeks and nose. All for me, just for me. Her morning voice, mumbling my name into my neck and chest as she desperately tried to get closer to my comfort. My arms enveloped her until she disappeared, then I remembered she wasn’t here again. She couldn’t.

When I walked around the house I imagined her happily skipping alongside me, dragging me over to the couch just to cuddle and burrow in the soft blankets for the rest of the day until one of us had to eventually finish a task.

No more fleeting kisses, no more shoulder rubs, no more long nails tracing my shoulder blades while my fingertips gave the same treatment to the dimples on her back and the dips in her hip bones. No more of her cheek pressed to my chest, arms wrapped around me in a tight embrace because she just didn’t want to let go. No more of the stubbornness which kept me smiling at how ridiculous she could be.

When I got home I would expect a long hug, she always stood on her tiptoes to hug me so her lips could meet my cheek.. or my own. Always warm, everything she possessed was warm. Her giggles, her lips, her voice, everything. Without her everything was just cold. I never rested comfortably because it was so, so damn cold.

I could feel her. Right there. The rise and fall of her chest, hips flush to mine as her soft, pink pout glossy with need stared up at me as a way to beg for attention. Her doe eyes, big and wanton silently telling me how much she needed my love, for my hands to trace her skin and plush valleys. For her small ones to grab mine tightly, tangle in my hair, whisper against my lips about how I needed a haircut before I shut down the sense of coordination for her thoughts with my hips meeting her thighs.

The days lulled by slowly without her there, I thought back to the night she left every single day. My words were not the right choice, she was willing to be there. She was willing to help me, but I didn’t think that something already broken could depend on something else the way I did to her. I had nightmares about the sounds of her heart wrenching, yet gentle sobs as I told her my thoughts. The promise ring still sat on my bedside table on her side just waiting for the day that I could really pull myself together and face her. My only weakness. My only reason, which could have been mine from the beginning if I was smarter. If I had worked harder.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“Looking dapper, aren’t you?” Michael had noticed that I’ve been emptily staring into a mirror for what felt like forever. The abrupt sound of his voice pulled me from my thoughts as I blinked, looking at his reflection behind me.

“Oh, totally. Just can’t get enough of myself.” I replied in a sarcastic tone of voice, rolling my eyes as I smoothed a hand down the front of my suit. Award shows were fun, for the most part. A lot less stressful if we didn’t have a performance, we didn’t have to worry about becoming presentable once again. What can I say? We put our all into anything we play.

Michael grinned in a silent laugh at my reply, scrolling through his phone while Calum did the same and Luke was idle in front of the other mirror. He’d started wearing a lot of eye makeup, not that it was a bad thing. He was getting incredibly good at it, just to think a few years ago he barely felt comfortable putting on some chapstick in public. “Listened to Y/N’s new single yet? Pretty dope.” Michael hummed, nudging Calum’s shoulder to show him something on his phone which was presumably the cover or something… because he nodded in approval and made a comment that I didn’t hear. The sound of her name made me shiver, I took a deep breath and pulled myself away from the mirror to sit across from the others. Their conversation made no sense to me as I was still quite caught up in my own mind, my world of thoughts surrounding me about what this song could sound like. Would I ever listen to it? No, to save myself, probably not.

The one thing missing from this was her by my side again, squeezing my hand and holding on through the swamp of cameras and flashing lights. I could always remember her being the only thing I felt, in all of the chaos. I hadn’t even registered that we had made it out to the car and were sitting in the back already, I snapped back into reality again.

“You good, dude? You’ve been sorta spacey today.” Calum did the same as Michael did to him earlier and nudged my side, I defensively nodded and silently dismissed his worries. If I talked about it, I feared that it would all come out at once without being able to put a filter on my thoughts. Soon enough, we were back in that atmosphere again. Hopping out of the car and putting on an attitude towards the cameras but a different comfort for the fans who just wanted to see us up close, another car rolled in behind us after our driver had gone but I didn’t look. I started hearing her name again, hushed in comparison to all of the other desperate shouts and calls for attention. Fuck, wasn’t I lucky? I just had to keep moving, smiling, waving, making jokes and avoiding the mention of the girl haunting me.

This night was slow. So fucking slow, I just wanted to sit through this and get out of the venue as quick as possible. I wanted to go back to our bed, hold her knitted crop top up to my face and breathe in her scent which was long gone by now. However, we had to mingle. We just had to walk around and talk to people, I couldn’t leave by myself… it was worth a shot to try to enjoy the last few hours of the event. So far, I had been holding myself together pretty well and Luke stuck by my side to make sure I wasn’t left alone in my head. I knew he would do this for me, he wouldn’t hesitate to help me when I needed it. Even if I never vocalized it.

– POV: Reader –

There it was, the movie moment. The prolonged eye contact before an invisible pull drew the two closer to each other until they finally met in the middle, though that didn’t happen. You saw him from afar, shuffling alongside Luke and unable to hold eye contact. His hair was tame, but you knew it at its best. Thick, messy curls, damp from a shower, hanging over his lustful eyes at your favorite times, pushed back into one of your clips so they weren’t disrupting his focus. You knew the best of him, and you needed to see that again. It wasn’t you that ended things, but the chase after he realized his mistake hadn’t stopped until 6 months after you two ended. Bad idea, maybe? Your heels clicked along the tile, drowned out by the natural sounds of people laughing and congratulating, drinks flowing, claps on the back. You was drawn to him the minute Luke had pressed a hand to his shoulder and left his side.

“Hi.” One word that spoke a thousand all at once, Ashton turned with a look of… fear in his eyes. It didn’t go away when your eyes met, but his expression definitely softened.

“Hey, stranger.” He breathed, the soft ring of honey around his iris and between the forest green majority shrinking as his pupils dilated out of love. That was it, from the moment he spoke you knew that the pieces were already mended. There was healing. You bit your lip to hold in your smile, but you just couldn’t. It was contagious, Ashton shared a hesitant smile back with relief. ‘Are you upset with me? Have you forgiven me for making one of the biggest mistakes of my life?’ He wanted to ask, but better yet, your eyes told him more than enough. “I loved the song.” Ashton lied, he hadn’t listened to it.

“Oh, yeah?” You stared up at him, from the trouble he seemed to be having with eye contact earlier, he sure wasn't having any now.

“Yeah, you really deserve that nomination.” He mused, pupils darting up and down from the tip of your toes all the way up to your done-up, hairspray and product doused hair.

“I appreciate that.” You gave a warm smile, hands knitting together neatly in front of yourself. It wasn’t until you made eye contact again that you realized you were wearing his favorite color, his favorite cut– a nice baby blue tight around your hips and fanning out around your frame. Time was cut short, the award ceremony was starting in less than 10 minutes now.

Ashton cleared his throat, checking his watch. “We should… probably get to our seats.” He said softly, still lingering like he didn’t want to leave you behind.

You simply nodded in agreement, bidding him an awkward goodbye before stepping away and letting that invisible string loosen its hold.

The interaction left you slightly lost, even more lost than the moment you actually ended your relationship. It felt like walking away from an opportunity, the real embodiment of stepping away from a chapter in your life. Were you at peace? Maybe, but it was unfinished. You couldn’t sit through this award show, with performance after another the wait was getting more and more unbearable to handle

You needed to speak with Ashton, burn the bridge or rebuild it.

Where did the party go?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Part 2

[mmoonpies]

Heyy, could I please request Rowan Laslow x fem? Reader smut + scratching his back during sex/reader digging her nails into his back and it leaving scratch marks/nail marks? I'm not sure what you can do with this but honestly I love your writing so much so if you do go through with this request ik whatever you write I will love! I hope this request doesn't make you uncomfortable at all and you 100% don't need to do it :))

absolutely no problem! this didn't make me uncomfortable at all, thank you for being so sweet :( <3

warnings: dry humping, cumming in pants, no penetration, mention of blood, pain kink, low-key praise kink, dom! rowan, sub! reader, female reader, smut, nsfw, 18+, mention of blood.

rowan's shoulders couldn't help but sag downwards, the weight of the day heavy on his shoulders, his limbs aching and throbbing as he forced his body to walk into your dormitory. his bag was only added weight, slung over his shoulder as the straps slowly slid down his arms. his skin was sticky with humidity, sweat rolling down his body with the sweltering summer heat still apparent in the night.

you had plagued his mind the entire day; longing for your arms to wrap around him and bless him with the comfort he had craved all day. but, he couldn't help how impure thoughts seeped between the cracks, secretly hoping he could pin you down and let you take his frustration out on you. but, he was above that...right?

with the final part of strength, he pushes open the door of your shared dormitory, immediately letting out a heavy sigh which seemingly released the tension wound in his shoulders. the familiar calm scent of your sheets wafted through the air, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before he closes the door behind him.

he drops his bag to the side of the door before trudging through the dormitory, glancing over your usual positions while rubbing his eyes. yet, you were nowhere to be seen.

rowan's lips creased deeper into a frown before wandering over to the couch placed to the side of your room, greeted by your figure lazily sprawled across the fabric, a book covering your face from his view.

he hardly has a moment of hesitation before walking over to the front end of the couch and immediately crawling onto your stomach. you can't stop the upwards jolt of your body, a surprised yelp leaving your lips while the book once held in your hands is flung onto the floor.

on any other day, rowan would've laughed, but wednesday's just took a bigger toll on him than he'd like to admit. he simply turns his head to the side, pressing his ear against your skin as he silently relishes in the warmth of your body. his lips part, a gentle sigh filled with relief slipping past his teeth as your fingers graze over his scalp, your eyes quickly widening.

"don't take offence, but you're really sweaty," you murmur with a small giggle, removing your hand from his head, much to his discontent. he hardly reacts, simply reaching his hands back up to find your own before pulling it back down, resting his cheek on it with a quiet grunt.

"don't care," his response is nothing short of blunt; swift and sweet as you liked to describe it. "want you."

you let out a small scoff, unable to hide the smile in your voice. instead of the slight disgust you should feel, you shiver slightly at the feeling of his sweaty body pressed up against you. he shifts his head upwards, just enough to press a small kiss to the crevice of your neck - just enough to make a small jolt of electricity burst underneath your skin.

he doesn't bother to watch for your reaction, already knowing he has you wrapped around his finger. he lets his hands slide down the sides of your body, stopping to rest on your hipbones as he continues to pepper kisses down your neck before stopping at the collar of your shirt.

"rowan?" his eyes shift to look at you, the darkness of his hues making a heat shoot through your abdomen, your arousal becoming noticeable by the second. "what are you doing?"

you know how dumb it sounds as soon as the words fall from your lips, lips twitching into a small smile as he simply raises an eyebrow at you. yet, you can see the way his eyes glimmer at your reactions, his voice dropping an octave.

"i said i wanted you, didn't i?"

rowan moves his hips, the friction of his cock rubbing against your crotch making a quiet whimper slip from your lips before you could even think of holding back. you can see the way his teeth sink into his bottom lip, sucking in a breath through his nose as he closes his eyes briefly.

he gives an experimental roll of his hips, a small gasp falling from his lips at the shared friction. you could feel rowan's cock throbbing against the thin material of his suit pants, craving more. you move your hands from his cheeks, sliding them down to his lower back as a soft moan rolls off your lips.

you try and match the rolls of his hips, pressing your clothed cunt harder against him. you can't help but moan as the tip of his cock catches the tight fabric against your clit, dragging against it. you whimper, nails sinking ever so slightly into his skin before gliding up to grip his shoulders.

his hands began to wander over your body, almost as if he was mapping every curve to your body as he rolled his hips against you. he slid his hands under your shirt, lifting his head up to look back up at you.

“is this ok?” he asked, almost breathlessly as he pulled his hips back slightly. you nodded immediately, bucking your hips as your cunt began to throb between your legs. the warmth of his palms pressing against your skin was only adding to your arousal, desperation beginning to grow in the pits of your stomach.

"words, y/n," his voice is smooth, a shiver running through your spine as his dark eyes lock with your own. your throat runs dry for a second, only able to harshly swallow as you try and even your breath, holding back the desire to jump him.

“please rowan, need you,” you whined, letting go of his skin to raise your arm, showcasing your desperation for him as he peels off your shirt. he chuckles softly, fingers dancing over the skin of your chest before they drop lower, the tips of his fingers hooking around your waistband. you raise your hips, allowing him to pull them off you before carelessly throwing them behind him.

you desperately grab the hem of his shirt, almost clutching it between your fists as you try and tug it off his body. he lets out a small but deep chuckle, pulling off his shirt as blood rushes to gather underneath his cheekbones. you can't help the way you stare at his chest, palms pressed against his skin as your lips curl into a coy smirk.

he slid his hands back up the couch, resting them next to your shoulders and pushing himself up with his arms to lift some of his weight off your body. he gently bucked his hips forwards, his body tingling as you let out a breathless moan of his name.

“fuck…” he mumbled as he began to rut against you, pressing his clothed cock against you, watching as your breath runs short.

you rolled your hips back with each thrust, your nails digging into his skin slightly as pleasure rolled through your body like waves. you can feel the vibrations of rowan's soft grunts against your neck, briefly stopping as he presses kisses against your skin.

you can feel the ridge of a vein on his cock slide against your dripping cunt, unable to help the way your back curls, forcing your body closer to him as your toes curl. the whimper you let fall from your lips makes rowan's body stutter, the grip he has on you growing tighter.

"fuck!" your moan is shakey, nails sinking into the soft skin of his back before making their descent downwards.

you can feel every ridge of his chest press against you with each thrust he delivers, your thighs subconsciously spreading wider to allow him more access despite the need to tighten them around him, forcing his cock to grind deeper against your clit.

his kisses turn sloppy and open-mouthed as he loses himself to lust, the thin material of your panties forcing the two of you to feel everything it allowed; every detail of his thick cock dragging against you and each pulse of your cunt as he grinds further into your cunt.

the feeling of his firm body pressed against you was making your mind cloud over with lust and desire, your fingers pressing into his back as his thrusts began to turn more desperate. his muscles were beginning to ache as he held himself up, his body beginning to tremble involuntarily. he gently lowered himself back down onto your body, a pang of arousal hitting his abdomen as you let out a small cry of his name.

“god y/n,” he moaned into your ear, the sound making you squirm underneath him. “you’re so beautiful, fuck…”

the praise makes you mewl, fingers gripping his skin even tighter as you sob out his name. he can only hiss at the feeling, his cock almost painfully hard at this point. the sounds of your desperate pleas and the feeling of your trembling underneath him are enough to push him closer to the edge.

you claw at his back, trying to hold yourself back and gain some point of control. but, you both know it's pointless.

the dull ebb in your cunt grows stronger, trying to suck him further in despite the cloth barrier between the two of you. he can only hiss through gritted teeth at the feeling, his thrusts losing their rhythm as lust turns to pure fucking need.

his grip tightens around you, sure to leave bruises as he bucks his hips harder against you. your legs wrap around his lower back, heels digging into him in a desperate attempt to push him closer. he moves his head to smash his lips against you, still feverishly thrusting into you as your lips messily slide against his own.

your fingernails and heels simultaneously press hard into his skin as your body tenses, orgasm crashing into you as rowan swallow's the harsh cry of his name. rowan's throat tenses as his orgasm pushes closer, rutting against your clothed crotch.

"fuck, i love you, y/n!" he cries out, voice cracking in the middle, your stomach tensing as your cunt throbs with sensitivity. you let out a small whine, hips tightening as your thighs try and clench shut, hips bucking as his own continue to sloppily rut against your stained cunt.

you're both too focused on catching your breath to notice the sticky sensation that sticks to your inner thighs, arms falling down to your side as he gently lays back down against your stomach. you both bask in the afterglow, the intensity of your orgasm leaving a small throb in your cunt, hips slightly shifting as a way to relieve the pressure.

"fucking hell," was all that rowan could manage to say as he rolls off you, grimacing at the sudden realisation of the sticky sensation of his own cum between his legs. you throw an arm over your eyes, trying to ignore the arousal still nestled deep within your cunt, feeling awfully messy and sweaty.

rowan can feel the stinging ache across his back, his shoulders rolling back as he winces. his eyes harden playfully as he tries to look over his back, only able to slightly see the irritated skin spread over his shoulder bones.

"y/n, how bad are the scratches?" he turns his back to you, looking over his shoulder at you as you throw your arm off your eyes. you roll your head around to look at him, trying to hide the shocked expression on your face.

the once-pale skin of his back is covered with a light shade of red, with small prickles of blood only slightly pooling at the surface of his skin. the marks from your nails are beginning to welt, stretching from his shoulder bones down to the divets of his lower spine.

"not that bad," rowan can hear the strained tone of your voice, laughing in disbelief at your awful lying voice before turning back to face you. "what? I'm being serious."

rowan scoffs with a smile before flopping back down onto your stomach, giggling as you let out a groan. he firmly grips your cheeks before pressing his lips back against yours, overcome with a warm swell in his chest. you can sense the desperation behind the kiss, knowing he's fighting the urge to sink his own nails into your skin and claim you as his own.

"i'll get you back for that," he roughly grits out between kisses as he pins you down against the couch, lips curved into a smirk. "guess i gotta mark you up in return, yeah?"

[suchalonelysunflower]

Villain

Sinners and Saints - Chapter 2

Pairing: Mafia! Ashton Irwin x Fem! Hemmings! Reader

Summary: Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf? After seemingly accept to help her, Ashton would not make it easy for the reader to find his good graces.

Warnings: Violence, swearing, blood, guns, threats, kidnapping, murder, mentions of abuse, injury. Some grammar mistakes (English is not my first language I’m sorry)

Word count: 5.9k

Author’s Note: I’m keeping it, and if you don’t like AU’s don’t read them 🤷🏼‍♀️ Thank you all for the support with the first chapter, it means a lot 🩷 And remember to reblog, comment and like the post if you enjoyed it ❤️ Hope you like it and happy reading 🌻✨🦋

Series Masterlist

“Careful, angel” You could hear the smile in his voice dripping with condescending sarcasm “We don’t want you to get hurt”

Still, you kicked and fought and bit and yelled “fire” hoping anyone could hear and come and help, but the music was too loud and you were at least ninety percent sure the walls were soundproof. You could not see anything besides the darkness of the velvet inside of the - you guessed - bag over your head. Your heels dug into the ground as the minions Ashton probably hired from the slums tried to drag you away.

“Get the fuck away from me!”

“Motherfuck-!” One of them yelled after you sunk your teeth deep into his hand. You smiled at the faintest taste of blood that lingered on your tongue. If you were going down, at least they’d know you fought back.

Ashton rolled his eyes with a sigh “You know,” He said “You used to be fun”

“Fun?!” You yelled turning your head toward where you thought he was, still dragging your feet as two pairs of arms dragged you “I would show you fun, you sick son of a-”

“Ah-ah better be careful with your next words, angel” Ashton tutted. You felt his breath next to your ear, goosebumps jumping up on your skin as he leaned down and whispered “We both know you like it”

At that point, you were hoping you had a bag over your head so that he would miss the way your cheeks flamed up at his proximity. But if you had to guess, he probably wore a devilish smirk right now, and oh, how you wanted the satisfaction to erase it completely.

“GODFUCK-” You smiled as you heard Ashton’s groan in pain after you kneeled him near his crotch.

“Oops”

Soon, your wrists were grabbed by one of his hands, pulling you closer to him. You could feel his heartbeat next to yours as he took off the covering of your face.

Hazel, angry eyes were staring right at yours, you didn’t dare look away. You couldn’t. His gaze scanned your face, lingering a second too long on your lips before his stare found yours again, looking back with something hidden in them, something that made your breath get caught up in your lungs the second you noticed the soft caressing of his thumb against the skin of your wrist. It was a challenge, it had to be. You knew Ashton’s tricks too well to fall for them so easily. But having him so close made you realize exactly why it seemed so thoughtless to give it all away.

“Why do you have to be so difficult?” He asked, words like velvet coming out of his mouth.

“I don’t know,” You answered, staring back at him with anger “Why do you have to be such an asshole?”

Ashton chuckled, “Ouch, and I thought we were getting along”

Suddenly, you felt someone yank you from his grasp and carry you over their shoulders to the exit. You kicked and screamed, but all was fruitless as you were thrown inside a car where they tied up your wrists and ankles, and covered your face with another blindfold.

“Believe me, angel. I had no intentions of tying you up this soon” Ashton’s voice came floating as you felt the seat next to you dip under his weight. You scoffed in annoyance.

“Bite me, Irwin”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, love” He said “And try and keep quiet, alright? Don’t make me gag you… Unless you want to”

The car started moving, and just like that, you were completely at his mercy.

*

During the whole car ride, you were completely silent and still. You didn’t even give him the satisfaction of breathing hard, and you knew you were driving him crazy. Well, if the consistent sound of tapping his fingers on his knee told you anything, that is. You had to repress a smile at that.

Ashton liked the chase and fight. You noticed it the second you saw that glint in his eyes. One does not get the name Lucifer by playing fair and liking it.

“Turn over here,” He told the driver “Take the next exit and then straight home”

You rolled your eyes. Of course, he didn’t want you to know where he lived or how to get there, it was all part of the protocol your father used with all of his associates as well. How many times have the driver picked you up from school and a random man was sitting at the back with a bag over his head and his hands bound with tape if anything?

But you’ve already sold your life to the devil. You promised everything he requested to save Luke from whatever hellhole he was caught up with. You trusted him despite yourself because no one else would’ve helped you due to the nature of your last name. Ashton knew this. He knew that you weren’t going to betray him, you couldn’t even if you wanted to while your brother was nowhere to be found. So what was all this circus? Was it just to humiliate you further?

“Someone’s awfully quiet over there” He taunted. You said nothing “Aww, cat’s got your tongue, angel?”

You kicked what you hoped was his seat and heard him laugh quietly. Your cheeks burn red as you bite your tongue from ever answering him. There will be nothing left to say until he starts helping you with the search.

Sometime later, the car came to a halt. You heard how Ashton’s men got out of the vehicle, feeling how it got lighter once they did. You were still sitting in place, not moving unless moved to become more of an inconvenience for anyone because they knew that if they tried to touch you, some of the bruises you left on them might become worse.

That’s until you felt a familiar grasp on your arm.

You tried to hit him once again, but Ashton was pulling you from a distance of a few steps ahead of you. He took you up some stairs and you heard a big door closing behind you. Suddenly, the light came through.

“Now, listen,” Ashton said as your eyes adjusted to the light and the new environment “I don’t want any funny business here, you got it?”

Your head was reeling too hard to even speak. Your eyes started to look around, familiarizing yourself with this new threat. The two of you were standing in a grand entrance lobby, the main staircase not too far behind in the room. There were guards on each door, some even waiting with firearms in their hands, ready to draw. The marble floors decorated the room with elegance, nothing you wouldn’t expect from someone in this line of business.

But what really impressed you was the size of this mansion. Of course, you had your fair share of them, coming from a big, important family, it was nothing new. But knowing that Ashton lived there alone… it sure felt lonely.

Yet, you barely had time to ponder on that as Ashton grabbed you by the arm again and dragged you up the stairs.

“You are never to leave this room, understood?”

“What?”

He opened up a door, practically throwing you inside and making you lose your footage.

“This door stays unlocked for me at all times” He sternly ordered “Don’t get in my way, don’t bother me, and don’t come looking for me. If you do, somebody better be dead or I’ll make sure they will be”

Ashton slammed the door after that, leaving you completely alone.

Immediately, you ran to the door, but when you opened it you found two guards standing with their broad backs facing you, both of them with guns.

You groaned and slammed the door shut. Falling to your knees as you desperately and angrily wiped away the tears that could not stop falling. You cursed Ashton’s name over and over again, hitting the ground until your knuckles were scraped and started to bleed a little bit. By then, almost all of your anger was contained and you were left feeling numb once again.

You stood up and cradled your hands with each other, looking around the green sage-painted room. The door of the bathroom was opened, so you went in to clean up the dirt and blood from your hands and fingertips. You noticed it had a bathtub; and towels; and the cabinet was filled with ibuprofen, bandages, and a first aid kit.

You looked back into the room and also noticed how the sheets were new, and the blankets over them were placed perfectly aligned with the pillows. You rummaged through the closet and found different outfits mostly consisting of sweatpants, hoodies, workout clothes, and a set of pajamas. The realization that Ashton got someone to get the room ready for you while you were driving to his house caught you by surprise.

Still, a cage was still a cage no matter how fancy it seemed.

The next thing you did was try to get to the windows, but as you suspected they were nailed shut and made with bulletproof glass.

“Smart,” You thought “You win this round, Irwin”

Suddenly, the antics of the day caught up with you as you let yourself fall into the sheets and the bed. You didn’t know how or when, but when you woke up, you were tucked underneath the blankets.

*

The next morning Ashton woke up with a major headache. His mouth was dry and his hair was sticking out in various directions. He got out of bed with a groan and with the everyday motivation coming from the smell of coffee coming from the kitchen.

But his thoughts are quickly scrambled by loud knocks at the door.

“Fuck… What?!” He shouted, rubbing his eyes, still trying to wake up.

“Sir?” One of his bodyguards talked through the other side of the door “I- uh. I’m afraid something’s happened… eh, with the guest. She- she’s not in her room, sir”

“WHAT?!

Immediately, Ashton was out of bed and putting on his sweatpants, grabbing the gun that slept next to him on his bedside table. He opened the door and put the front sight up against the guard’s neck and under his chin, making the man gulp when he saw the anger in his boss’ eyes.

“Say that again” He demanded.

“Th-the- the maid went to give her br-br-breakfast but the girl was not-”

Ashton rolled his eyes and murmured a “Fucking idiot,” before he went up to check up on the room across the hall.

Empty.

“Shit,” He cursed, punching the door frame and turning toward his crew “I want eyes on every fucking room in this house. The pool. The garden. The fucking sheds! Not a single rock left untouched! That’s Y/N Hemmings we’re talking about!”

“And if we find her?”

“When you find her you bring her to me. I’ll deal with her”

The men scurried quickly, leaving Ashton shirtless and alone in the hall. He cursed out loud and headed toward his office to check the cameras. Surely, if his idiot guards could not handle you, you still mustn't've gone too far-

Ashton backtracked a little bit, turning toward the door of the office and opening it completely. You almost laughed at his face when he saw you sitting there in front of his computer. But you quickly decided to ignore it and just go back to work. He has you trapped, but that does not mean you owe him any interactions.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked.

You noticed how his chest was rising and falling with anger he tried to keep at bay. The scars that adorned his skin seemed to come alive at that. His eyes were trained on you, waiting for an explanation.

“Starting the investigation” You shrugged.

“How did you-?”

“Please, I still remember your mum’s birthday. You’re the type of man who would use that as his password. I didn’t need to try that hard”

Ashton saw red at your comment. He slammed the gun to the desk and grabbed you by the arm, surely leaving bruises as he dragged you out.

You started to fight, punching him wherever you could. But he suddenly stopped and grabbed your other wrist with his hand, twisting it a little bit, just enough to make you complain and to stop your attempts to hurt him.

In his eyes, you could see the reason why people say he’s the angel of death. There was nothing but anger and hatred as he looked at you. It scared you for a moment, but it wasn’t going to make you run away.

“You said you would help me” You spat at him.

“I never said I would make it my priority”

“You motherfuck-” You cursed him out, trying to escape his grasp but it was useless. Yesterday he might’ve been playing a little bit, but now he was showing you his real strength.

Ashton shoved you back into your room, not even looking as he said “Change of plans, since you want to be a brat, you’ll be treated as one”

Then, he slammed the door and you heard the lock being put on.

You ran up to it, banging on it and fiddling with the knob to no avail. You cursed out his name and yelled at him, demanding to be let out.

“WE HAD A DEAL!” You’d shout until your voice gave out, but it all fell on deaf ears.

What have you gotten into?

*

Hours later, while you’re trying your best to pick the lock of the windows, the door opens.

“That’s not going to work, you know?” A kind voice said, “Believe me, I’ve tried”

You turned around to find the blond girl from the bar. She was smiling at you, leaning against the door frame. But the way she smiled… It seemed too familiar. Then, it hit you.

“Lauren,” You breathed her name, she laughed.

“About time you remember me!” Lauren said, walking into the room and sitting over the bed, patting the spot next to her “I almost thought you forgot about me”

“It’s not that,” You said, complying and sitting beside her “It’s just- wow, you were so little the last time we saw each other. And now…”

“I know, right? The glow-up did me good” She joked “And so it did to you. When you gave me your name yesterday, I must admit it took me a while. But when I noticed how my brother started to act…”

You rolled your eyes at her comment about Ashton “So being her prisoner is special treatment?”

“Having him agree to help you is special treatment. You know how he is”

But that was the thing, you didn’t. You’ve known of him, of his reputation, of his deeds. But Ashton Irwin was a complete stranger to you. Whoever that person at the end of the hall was, he was far away from the boy you used to know.

“Are you-?” You cleared your throat, not knowing how to ask the question.

“In the family business?” Lauren finished for you “No, I’m only working at the bar and as Ashton's assistant for a few months. Took a sabbatical from uni. Harry is also going there but he’s more applied to his studies” She laughed “Ashton never wanted us involved, even made us change our last name for a while so we don’t get connected to him or all of this.”

“I’m glad,” You smiled. “I would’ve done the same thing if I had younger siblings. My brother’s did try it with me, though. But, you know” You looked at her, and something flashed in her eyes “You look a lot like her”

“I know,” Lauren smiled at you, putting her hand over yours “And, I haven’t said it yet, but I truly am sorry about your brothers. It’s a shitty situation”

“Tell me about it,”

“But I know if anyone is going to find Luke, it’s Ashton” She assured you “And, don’t tell him this? But I did have a little girl crush on Luke way back when. So I really do hope you’ll find him”

You laughed at that, promising to keep quiet “Be honest with me, Lauren. Am I doing the right thing by trusting Ashton?”

She sighed “If I’m being honest, I would tell you that you already know never to trust anyone in this line of work. But as someone who knows Ash, and knows everything he’s been through and done… He’s a good guy, Y/N. Or at least better than the rest”

You nodded, understanding what she meant. Yet, your heart was still doubting. Still worried you made the wrong choice by coming to him.

“Oh, and before I forget,” Lauren said, getting up and handing you an old cellphone, “Ash told me to give you this”

“What for?”

“Communication, emergencies. You name it. It only has his number on it, but I snuck mine before he could notice” She gave you a wink “Talk to you later, okay?”

“Hey, Lauren?” You called for her before she left “Thank you. Thank you for everything”

The girl smiled and closed the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts and that old phone in your hands. So you decided to test it.

Me: Couldn’t you have found one phone from this generation?

Ashton: They can easily be tracked. You know that.

Ashton: So, sorry if you wanted games installed.

Me: Are you going to let me out so I can continue with the investigation?

Ashton: Are you going to be a good girl for me and do as I tell you to?

The redness of your cheeks went up to your ears. Groaning as you read that message.

Me: Fuck you, Irwin.

Ashton: Still with that attitude, angel? Too bad, I was going to ask you what you wanted for dinner. Guess the chef will skip that request, then.

Me: I will be caught dead before having dinner with you.

Ashton: Good. We can finally benefit each other, then.

You threw the phone against the wall, denting it a little bit with no damage done to the phone. This was going to be a long day.

*

It was 2 AM when the sound of the door banging against the wall woke you up.

“Get up,” Ashton’s voice rang through your head as you sat up “We’re leaving”

“What?”

He was standing in the middle of the room dressed in an all-black suit, his hair was pushed back, leaving just a wild stand of honey-colored curls to fall upon his forehead. To anyone else, it would seem he was headed to a party, but you knew that could not be the case. He scoffed, already annoyed.

“Are you deaf?” He asked, cocking his gun without even meeting your eyes “I said get up, we’re leaving. Now”

“I’m not going anywhere with you”

Finally, he looked up at you, refusing to accept the challenge that you presented to him.

“I don’t think you understand, angel-”

“Don’t call me-”

But before you could finish your sentence, he took two long strides to your bed and put the gun right up your forehead, fingertips on the trigger.

“When I say you jump, you ask how high. If I tell you to move, you move. This isn’t daddy’s little playground where you can make the rules, princess. I’m in charge here. You work for me. You belong to me. Understood?”

You said nothing, staring directly at him with all the hatred you felt for him at that moment. His hazel eyes mirrored yours, feeling nothing but disgust under his gaze. Yet, you knew he was serious.

“I don’t like to repeat myself, angel. But for you I’ll make an exception” He said gravely “Understood?”

“Yes,” You said through gritted teeth.

Ashton put away his gun, snapping his fingers. Never taking his eyes off you as a maid brought a change of clothes into the room. It was a long-sleeved, black cotton shirt; a pair of black cargo pants; a multipurpose belt; and a can of pepper spray.

“What’s this?” You asked, picking up the tiny can.

“You’re going to blend in with my security team”

“Then shouldn’t I be carrying a gun as well?”

Ashton laughed, “Nice try, angel”

“Irwin, I’m serious! How am I supposed to protect myself with just this?!”

“Then I guess we’ll figure it out,” He said, sparing one last look at you. “I expect you to be downstairs in five minutes”

“What if-”

“Try me. Just once and you’ll see what I’m capable of”

He left the room, leaving you alone huffing and rolling your eyes at the image of him that once was there. But, having no other option, you did as you told.

Downstairs, a couple more guards were standing with Ashton at the door. You noticed a black Range Rover ready to go just outside. One of the guards came toward you, a bag in his hand. You stopped him.

“Is that really necessary?” Ashton raised his brow, and you rolled your eyes “It’s the middle of the night, Irwin. It’s not like I would see much anyway”

The guard looked back at his boss, shrugging. Ashton looked back at you, eyes hard as steel. He didn’t say a word, just turned around and started walking to the car. For a moment, you smiled to yourself for that small victory.

You sat in the back in the middle of two guards, Ashton went up the passenger seat. You frowned. It was not normal for someone that important in this line of work to be in such plain sight. But then again, the glass and the whole car were bulletproof, and the windows were tinted black. And, to top it all off, everyone knew not to fuck up with Lucifer himself if they weren’t ready to face the consequences firsthand. After all, only a fool would try to kill death.

“One of the alarms went off at the club,” Ashton said before you could ask him “Someone tried to break into the offices, killing one of mine.”

That answers the way he was dressed, although you guessed that no matter the occasion, he would dress the part. Still, it didn’t seem like a big deal to wake all of you up in the middle of the night. You’ve walked the hidden halls of the club before, you knew they were well-guarded and with the right security system installed. Ashton surely had the right people to take care of all that. Unless…

“Lauren?” You asked, letting the worry slip in your words.

Ashton barely moved his head, you assumed that hearing the name of his sister come from you must’ve surprised him a bit.

“She’s fine,” He said, dryly “I don’t- She doesn’t work there unless I’m with her”

You nodded. Smart choice from him. Yet, that doesn’t explain why you had to come at this time. But when asked about it, Ashton just gave you the silent treatment until you got there.

Once you were parked, Ashton went out of the car almost immediately, leaving you and his men to follow him.

“Call Clifford,” He ordered to the group of men standing at the door “I don’t care if you have to drag him out of his bed, remind him of the favors he owes me” He turned to another guard “You. I want the list of names of the people that came in yesterday and tonight. I want a background check on their families as well. As for you…”

“Sir, everything was accounted for. Nothing was stolen. Our team is looking for hidden mics and cameras as we speak”

“I don’t fucking care if they took anything or not” He spat “I want to know, how the fuck did they manage to get in the first place?!”

“Sir-”

“No, you listen here” Ashton threatened, just inches away from that man’s face “I’m going in there, and you better pray to your pitiful god that we don’t find anything. If I do, if I even hear about someone who did, you bet your little sorry ass that there will be hell to pay. Starting with you. Don’t make me the villain just because you don’t know how to do your job. Don’t play with me because you will find me, and that will be the last thing you do”

You stood there, shivering. If that was because of the chilly wind or Ashton’s words, you didn’t know, nor were you particularly excited to find out either. Seeing him angry was nothing new to you by now, but it was entirely different seeing his anger aimed at someone else.

Ashton dismissed his men, turning back on his heel and walking up to you. The two men that were by your side rapidly scurried away, leaving you on your own with the devil.

“Anything you want to tell me, angel?” He asked, eyes set on yours.

“What?” You scoffed “You think I had anything to do with this?”

“All I know is that you randomly appeared at my door less than 36 hours ago with some sob, pathetic story, asking for help. And now people have tried to break in”

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy, insincere laugh. Yet, Ashton remained as serious as ever.

“You’re kidding,” You stated “I’ve broken all ties with my family. You know this. Why else would I ask for your help?”

“Because all Hemmings lie, angel,” Ashton said, taking a step closer to you “That’s all they do. And don’t think for a second I believe every word that comes out of your mouth just because you come here with sad eyes, demanding help. I’ve taken a risk by even considering helping you-”

“Then why did you? Why did you say you were going to do it?”

You asked out of genuine curiosity. If helping you was “such a huge risk” for Ashton, then why did he even accept it in the first place? Still, he gave you nothing with his silence.

His eyes were dark, familiar to the boy you once knew, but at the same time so far away from the memory you once held. It was impossible to get a read on him, to know what he was thinking at any given time. He was just standing there, merely a whisper away from you, yet so distant. He was a man with no conscience, no soul, and no mercy.

“I didn’t lie to you,” You told him after a while “I just want to find my brother”

Ashton contemplated you for a moment “And if I refuse to offer any help?”

“Then I will find someone who will” You lied, knowing that no one but him would be able to help you. But hoping Ashton would believe it enough not to question it “You tell me to go and I’ll leave, right? So I’ll be out of your hair if you’re so scared that I might do something”

Your intention was never to walk away, but you knew exactly what buttons to push to get a reaction out of him. And, sure enough, you didn’t walk even one step before his hand grabbed you by the wrist and turned your body around, chest colliding with his, face to face.

He held your wrist at the level of his eye, watching intently over you, trying to decide whether or not to believe you.

“You’re getting on my last nerve, angel,” He said, quietly but with a hint of a threat lacing his words.

Your eyes shifted due to his proximity, going from that hazel color of his eyes to the pinkness of his lips. You caught yourself at the last second, focusing on the chain that hung from his neck over his chest. But the smirk he gave you let you know that he caught you staring.

“Like anything you see, angel?”

You rolled your eyes “You’re impossible, Irwin”

“Maybe,” He said, a smile present in his voice as he lowered his head and whispered in your ear “But as you said, I’m your only hope”

“I didn’t-”

“SIR!” A man yelled behind you. Both turned toward him “We found something-!”

Suddenly, all you could hear was the sound of a gunshot followed by the thud the guard’s body made when it hit the floor.

Ashton turned around quickly, pushing you behind him as he tried to grab his gun from his pocket. It all happened so quickly, that you didn’t even notice the second shot being fired until Ashton groaned and grabbed the side of his arm.

You acted quickly, grabbing Ashton’s gun from his pocket as you started to fire it in the direction where you assumed the shooter was. You pulled Ashton from the back of his collar, awkwardly maneuvering him to safety while you kept shooting until you hit the back of a building. You pushed Ashton against the wall, watching briefly as he sunk to the ground while you tried to focus.

Most of your body was hidden behind that brick wall, but your periphery gave you enough balance to locate the threat. You watched a shadow run from the roof of the club to the alleyway beside it. The guns from both your parts kept shooting bullets in your direction, neither of them hitting the target.

The shadow then jumped on the hood of a car onto the passenger seat. The sound of the tires burning against the floor hurt your ears, and the headlights lit up as they sped away. And, just like that, they were gone.

Your ears kept ringing while you tried to stabilize your breathing. The beating of your heart was going ten thousand miles per hour as the reality of what just happened sunk in. But, what the hell happened?

“What happened?” You whispered to no one in particular “We were just-”

The dryness of your throat forced you to keep quiet. The truth was, you never experienced cross-fire before. You knew how to shoot a gun because your brothers taught you against your mother’s wishes. You knew the basic steps you needed to follow in case there was a shooting. Yet, this was the first time you shot someone - or against someone - and the fact that you couldn’t tell if the shaking of your hands came from fear or adrenaline disturbed you a little.

“Angel,”

You blinked, seemingly being pulled back to earth with his voice.

Ashton was sitting next to you, panting as his hand covered the side of his upper arm. He looked up at you, but the hatred you once saw in his eyes was now replaced by some sort of mischievous gleam. He was grinning at you.

“Well done,” Was all he said before a hiss escaped his lips.

“Oh my god, Ash” You kneeled by his side “I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s fine,” He said, trying to move “I’m fine, the bullet didn’t even - fuck. It didn’t even hit, barely grazed me-”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the buttons of his jacket and opening them to slide it off.

“Take a guy out for a drink first” He joked as you started to open up his shirt “Although, I can’t say that I mind-”

“For fuck’s sake, Ash. I’m trying to see where the bullet hit you!”

From your position, you couldn’t just shrug off his sleeve. So you grabbed his shoulder and pulled him from the wall, accidentally letting go too early and leaving his head to bounce off the wall by the effect.

“I told you, I’m fi-fiaaagh- The fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Sorry,” You cringed, trying to locate his wound “I can’t see it properly…”

Ashton then swiftly pulled you from your hips into his lap, sitting you properly before he raised his arm and bent it with his hand behind his head.

“Better?” He asked, breathing in deeply from the pain.

You stared at him, perplexed by his actions. But then you shook your head and located the wound, trying your hardest to ignore that you were sitting in Ashton Iriwin’s lap.

His other hand danced over the side of your knee, never touching it, but barely grazing it with his fingertips. His eyes were set on every move you made, never leaving your face. When you noticed it, he smiled at the slight blush that covered your cheeks.

“So,” You said, calmly “Are you going to give me a proper gun now, Irwin?”

“I’ll consider it”

“What? I basically saved your life!”

“You have a poor technique” He shrugged “I can give you some proper points later”

“Proper points?”

Ashton then grabbed his gun from beside you, took out the bullets, and pointed it at you.

“You see this?” He said, “This is how you grabbed the gun, one misfire and you’d be out a finger, angel. You’re lucky my guns are well-calibrated. But we’ll go over that later”

“Sure,” You said, giving him a small laugh in disbelief “Well, you’re lucky that bullet barely left a cut. We- You should go disinfect it before it catches anything”

“I’ll survive then,” Ashton said, lowering his arm and letting it rest on your bent ankle. caressing the skin.

“For now, Irwin”

“Ash,” He said.

“Huh?”

“Earlier you called me “Ash” It’s the first time that I’ve heard it”

“Well, I thought you were dying, so…”

You gave him a small smile that he returned, his fingers still touching your skin as his eyes never left yours.

“We should-” You stammered “We should head back, see if anyone else is injured?”

“So that you could call Peter, “Pete” if he got himself a boo-boo?” You groaned as you rolled your eyes and got off his lap, starting to walk toward the club “I was joking!”

*

Soon, you and Ashton and a couple of guys from his security team were scuttering the roof from where the shadow started to shoot. There was nothing there that could lead them to anything or anyone. It was completely deserted.

“And you’re sure you’ve watched someone run-”

“Yes!” You repeated for the thousandth time, giving them a walkthrough “I saw them appear over here, and then run toward the alleyway. They jumped and got into a car, someone was already waiting there”

Ashton hummed, “We’re going to review the footage, and see if we can trace the license plate or the type of car they were using. That would narrow the list”

“A lot of enemies, Iriwn?”

Ashton shook his head “I don’t think I have anything to do with this, angel”

“What do you mean?”

He walked over to you where the shadow allegedly started shooting. He turned you around and pointed to the two guards that were marking where the two of you had stood before the shooting.

“Tell me when you see it,” He whispered to you.

You scoffed. There was nothing left to see. The man who was supposed to be Ashton is with his back exposed to the shooter while the one representing you was barely in sight. They could’ve easily-

And then it hit you.

They could’ve easily shot Ashton in the back of his neck. But they didn’t.

Ashton was not their target.

You were.

[dumbsunwhore]

I need mutuals here

let's be mutuals if you're queer

or if you like

PJO

Batfamily

Twilight

the hunger games

5sos

hearstopper

FNAF

✨✨✨✨✨

[gothluke]

luke as barbie and the magic of pegasus

[littledrummeraussie]

thursday’s for the boys.

masterlist. | capture the moment collection. | want to be added to my taglist?

warnings: dad!Calum. some naughty comments, but mostly just fluffiest of fluffy fluff.

word count: 1103

author’s note: just a quick dad!Calum blurb because I saw this pictures and I just had to.  ❤️

- - - - -

“I really hate leaving you two like this, but I–”

“But you have a job and you’re needed in the office. Don’t worry, I get it,” Calum smiled at you, fingers lightly running through your hair before cupping your cheek. “You just told me for the tenth time or so.”

“I’m not used to this,” you confessed with a sigh, resting your forehead against his collarbone and Cal wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing the top of your head. “I like pre-planned meetings and appointments so I know how to schedule our time so it doesn’t ruin your plans, and–”

“You’re spiralling,” Calum stated shortly, making you stop your rambling. “Don’t worry about us. I told the guys I’m needed here, and Ashton wanted to come over ASAP.”

“He just wants to steal Kai for himself,” you scoffed, a smile already pulling at your lips.

“He thinks babies are soft and cute.”

“Well, he should try and make his own,” you pursed your lips, making Cal lean down to kiss you shortly.

“Nah, too much responsibility,” he chuckled, both of you having a laugh over your friend.

A delightful babble rang through the air, at which you and Cal turned to look at your son sitting on the floor, tiny hands petting Duke’s head, the dog giving Calum a not-so-happy look and demanding him with a tiny woof sound to please get him out of this situation, preferably right now.

“You’re so dramatic,” Cal chuckled at the dog before bending down to pick the little boy up, holding him in his arms. “Come on, Bubba, Duke’s grumpy. But Dada is here to stay with you today.”

“Momma?” Kai looked between you and Calum, brown eyes big and curious, and more than anything you wanted to stay home and be with them.

“Momma needs to go to work,” you stepped closer to them, softly caressing his chubby cheek. “But I’m coming home as soon as I can, and until then Dada will keep you entertained. And maybe Uncle Ash will stop by too.”

“Be careful what you say,” your boyfriend mumbled with a stifled laugh, adjusting Kai in his arms and leaning close to press his lips against the top of his head. “Say bye to Mommy?”

“Bye,” he waved his hand at you, still a little unsure as he was only just starting to learn the words and their meanings, slowly understanding the actions they paired with.

“Kiss Kai?” you offered your cheek to your son who quickly leaned over and pressed his lips against it, giving you a big wet kiss. “Thank you, baby!”

“Kiss Kai,” he repeated your words, something he recently learned, while sucking on his thumb.

You yourself pressed a kiss on his cheek in return before turning to Calum, lips meeting and sharing a kiss. Cal curled his arm around your waist to pull you close, hand caressing your waist, trying to slip under your shirt.

“Maybe once I’m home…” you softly bit into his bottom lip, giving him a cheeky smile. “Text me how the day’s going?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine,” he promised, bumping his forehead against yours. “Dad mode: activated.”

 .

You’ve tried not to worry, you really did. You’ve also tried to focus on the meeting that was currently taking place, the one why you needed to ask Cal to stay at home with Kai, but everything seemed futile. Truth was that since Kai was born there were only a few days that you spent apart from your little boy, and you might have developed a slight co-dependency when it came to him. Not that anyone would have blamed you, after all, you were his Mom.

Maybe you were just anxious for some reason – you knew Calum is well capable of taking care of your son, he’s been there every step of the way since he found out you were pregnant. Maybe you were just scared you’re missing out on something; Kai was growing up so fast, already learning words and you wanted to hear every new one from him. It was perfectly normal wanting to experience all these new milestones together with Cal – they were far more important than whatever your co-worker was rambling about.

You’ve tried, you really did, but in the end you needed to pick up your phone, and hid it in your lap as you sent a quick message to Calum, wanting to know what they were doing, and if Ashton really did show up to spend some time with his godson.

Y/N: Hey, how’s everything going?

A few minutes passed before your phone buzzed in your hand, a new text message popping up on your screen.

Calum: all good in the Hood 👌

Y/N: CALUM!!!

Calum: sorry I had to

A series of laughing emojis followed, and you needed to roll your eyes at your boyfriend. He was definitely in one of his cheeky moods, it was clear from the morning as well, but that didn’t mean your nerves were soothed. You needed proof that both him and Kai were doing okay without you, even though your conscience told you not to worry about them.

Y/N: But are you sure you’re okay?

Calum: Couldnt be better

A second later a picture appeared on your screen, and it took everything in you not to start tearing up while looking at it. Calum was lying in your shared bed, his phone pointed at the mirror to take a picture of him and Kai. Kai, who was peacefully sleeping, cuddled against his Dad’s back, chubby cheek resting against Calum’s broad shoulder. There was so much love and calmness radiating from the picture that suddenly you felt silly for worrying this much about them.

Calum: Cant move. Might stay here forever

Y/N: He also knows that Daddy is the best kind of pillow ❤️

Calum: we miss Mommy though. Hurry up and come home to us ❤️

Y/N: Gonna cozy up to you soon! Save a spot for me?

Calum: bet your sweet ass I will 😘

You sent him back a kissy face emoji as well, saving the picture of your boys and setting it as your new wallpaper. You also made a promise to yourself to ask Calum to have some more father-son days with Kai – it was definitely the best part of your day when he ended up sending you the cutest pictures of the two of them on their many different adventures.

And if you got to tag along to their Thursdays which soon were reserved for the two of them, well, that was definitely the best kind of bonus.

 - - - - -

taglist.

@mymindwide​ @fuckyeah5sostakemehome​ @suchalonelysunflower​ @talkfastromance4​ @ashtonsunflower​ @in-superbloom​  @wiiildflowerrr​  @lovelywordsblog​ @heyitskelseaj​ @whentherosesbl00m​

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

Sweet Dreams--Part 12

Calum and you have dance around reality for a few months now. But after Calum leaves and returns from a trip, the reality has to be confronted. 

Weeks are passing and maybe more is blooming between you and Calum than might meet the eye.

Prince!Calum x Reader Insert.

Series Masterlist

Complete Masterlist

The snap of the camera sounds well after the flash of the light. Then behind it, what sounds like a thousand more shutters erupt. The flashes blink like the silver dots Calum used to call angels when he was a child in his vision. As he approaches the podium, Calum thinks less about the blinking lights. The lights don’t slow him down like they used to. They don’t hurt as much as they used to. This is all well practiced throughout the years. He smiles, lifting a hand in acknowledgement at the crowd that’s gathered. Since the vote, Calum’s been keeping an eye on the way the funds have been helping those in need, continually surveying those that took place in his initial conversations and polls. Things seem to be going well. But at the conclusion of this year, there still are four seats that will need to be filled. 

It’s unconventional for Calum to even bring this discussion to the floor for the public. The truth of the matter is, he knows he can’t serve a community and people that he knows very little about. He doesn’t know their concerns. He doesn’t know what specific things are plaguing the majority. He’s sure there’s even more pressing things for select groups--everyone has their own prioritization but still Calum’s not on the pulse like he wants to be. So, he’s here now to re-introduce the surveys and forms available to the public. He wants them to know he is listening. Though it is tedious work to review those surveys on a quarterly basis, Calum’s happy to have a team willing to do the nitty gritty work--him included. 

“Thank you for joining me here today. I know we’re closing in on the holidays soon and food and family are most likely at the forefront of everyone’s minds, but still it means a lot that you’ve still shown up here today,” Calum starts, working at the button of his suit jacket. “I’m also happy to see some pretty familiar faces too.”

And it’s true, as Calum peers out at the swarm of reporters, there are a few faces he’s learned to anticipate to see. A few laughs rise from the crowd and Calum takes a moment to glance down at his notes. It’s not a full on written speech, but it is a pretty tightly packed list of talking points.

“I don’t want to take up too much of your time today, folks. It is a Friday afternoon after all and I’m not a cruel man. We’re at the tail end of the year and after a particularly tight win in ensuring that additional funds are processed for those in need, it is still very much my intent to keep on the pulse of public concerns. I may be a man a little removed from the day to day struggles of the average person. I am a man aware that the reality of my day to day is vastly different from others. This, most likely, won’t be news to some. But I am hoping that by taking just a few minutes here today, I am able to encourage people to participate actively in their politics and re-introduce them to a tool to express their voice directly. 

“As it has been for the twenty years or so, on our parliament’s website there is a section which allows the public to write into us about concerns they have--whether it be about your specific counties roads, or library, or school--you have the space to let us know what is and what is not working for you. Now, to address concerns, I am sure people will have: yes, this was originally buried and hard to navigate to from the home page. There is a lot of news that we do try to share with you all and information we know you need to access more easily. Yet, I do not want this to be a continued excuse that frustrates people to the point where they believe that their feedback is not valued. 

“It is, in fact, the opposite. It is important that I know exactly what challenges are being faced day in and day out for my people. I am here to serve you. Given this goal to become more increasingly aware, I’ve worked with our designers to create the “Talk to Us” button.” 

Calum waves now to the screen behind him, which in the reflection in some of the glasses from those in the front row, he can see the slide is now showing. The home page--a stale blue--lights up behind him. “The home bar will now, at the conclusion of this press conference, include a direct link to the form, entitled, “Talk to Us”. When you click on this link, you’ll be asked to inform us of location specific details, if necessary, as well as being able to write directly and freely to your government on the actions you see that we need to take or directions you’d like us to head.”

A small murmur starts from the crowd, but it remains low and dies down soon too. Calum knows that soon a new slide should be appearing that showcases an example of the form itself so he continues on, slow and clearly as he speaks, “We will be launching in the new year the opportunity for you to respond to surveys we have created as well once you click on this link. These surveys will be no more than 10 questions at a time and participation is voluntary. The contents of these surveys will be a combination of concerns we have as your government and concerns brought up by you individually. Consider it a feedback loop. The more you tell us about issues, and the more you participate in those voluntary surveys, the better we can serve you. Concerns brought up through the Talk to Us function will be reviewed on a quarterly basis. We hope to hear from you soon.”

“Any questions?” Calum prompts, taking in the faces and notes being scribbled down. A couple hands are being raised after a few seconds. “Yes,” Calum notes, seeing a man in a sky blue button up start to raise his hand. 

He introduces himself and his associated press. “Considering that this function has existed on the website long before now, do you have any thoughts on why previous administrations haven’t taken to making this more accessible until now?”

A question Calum anticipated and he hates the way it pits administrations against each other. “I can’t speak for why previous ones haven’t considered reorganizations of the public website. But as we gain more literacy about user experience and design, it has become clearer than ever that the front page of any website is the most important in getting people to what they need as quickly as possible. We are working with some SEO strategies as well to help ensure that this link does show up in the first two pages of search engine results as well. There’s an entirely new field in politics revolving around online presences and social media. Our drive now is also tied to the direct evolution of this technology in the last few years as well.”

It’s a lot of hot air, even Calum knows that, but he has to say it this way. Has to make sure he’s careful of those that have come before him. Something so simple as adding a link seems obvious now but may not have been obvious before. 

Calum moves on to the next person--a woman, in a pink almost orange top, who gives her name and associated press as well. “Is there any plan to move these functions to an app perhaps in the future?”

“Not currently at this time, no,” Calum answers. “But the page itself will allow users that need it to use speech to text, screen readers, dark mode backgrounds and ensure to adhere to accessibility guidelines as well.”

Another man raises his hand, a white and black striped shirt. Calum signals to him for him to ask his question. After his name and press, the man continues on, “Are there concerns about backlash? People feeling like their concerns aren’t being addressed fast enough or feeling like there’s a ranking system when it comes to concerns.”

“Our team has assessed as thoroughly as we can the best way to sustain the use of this forum and survey platform. We won’t be able to get to every concern sent in and we will have to look at volume as it relates to each individual item raised. But we hope that by establishing the quarterly review timeline, we can be transparent enough to the public about why things may seem to be moving much slower than they anticipated. I have a team established, me included, who will be continually reviewing what is coming in and how efficient are current practices as well.”

“So, you’re really not afraid of the dirty work,” the man teases. The room bubbles with a soft bout of laughter. 

Calum laughs as well. “No, I’m not afraid of the dirty work. It is valuable work to do as I’ve come to learn.” Calum is a little afraid he might be spreading himself a bit thin by taking this one, but should he need to take a step back, he already has people he can pull in to help the team as well. Right now, there’s a lot of the paid interns doing the footwork, but Calum hopes this plan creates a big enough need that he can hire some of them on as full time staffer positions in the next two years. 

Calum, keeping an eye on the time, makes mention that he can only take two more questions to ensure he sticks to his early promise of not sucking up their entire afternoon. So he moves on to another lady in purple. She stands with a smile. “It appears that your special friend seems to be making an impression on you. My particular question--”

“I’m sorry, what?” Calum interrupts. “Who’s making an impression on me?”

Her face falls for a moment, but she recovers with an awkwardly thick laugh. “I think it’s quite obvious.”

Calum’s brows furrow. Part of him wonders if this person is referring to you. But this hardly seems like the place for it. Perhaps there’s something else he’s missing. “Well, color me surprised, because I am genuinely unable to follow your logic and statement. Could you clarify what you mean?”

The woman laughs again, but she begins to fidget with the cap of her pen. Maybe Calum’s not wrong about his initial assessment. But the seconds tick on and he’s not sure if he’s going to gloss over it or let her sit in her discomfort. She finally speaks but her voice shakes, “I just-I mean it’s obvious between your speech before the vote and the photos now that have repeatedly surfaced.”

More now than ever Calum’s positive what she’s been trying to hint at--you.  There’s hardly been news of the two of you lately, seeing as you worked, painted, and fussed over your siblings, Calum and you hadn’t been out in the public much over the last few weeks. Maybe there were pictures of your late night run for cookies at Calum’s insistence last week. But that hardly feels worthy of being brought up in a political press conference. 

“I’m sorry. Can you remind me of your name again?” Calum asks. “I think I missed it initially.”

“Pamela,” she offers though she does have to repeat it given how softly she says it the first time. Like how Calum imagines a child reacts to getting in trouble--sheepish and embarrassed. 

“And your press?”

“Times--Politics division.”

“Thank you, Pamela. I think given the particular reason for this conference this is not the place to divulge into personal affairs--mine, yours, or anyone else’s. Now, I do believe that Times sees you as talented and nuanced at political coverage, lest you wouldn’t be in the room responsible for covering their story about our meeting. I know this news is relatively small and for someone like you it may not take you more than an hour to write, edit, and publish. So let’s ensure that we continue to show Times your brilliance at politics. That sound good?”

She nods, fervently so that the strands she’d tucked behind her ear fall out again. “Ye-yes, Your Highness. I’m sorry.”

Part of him wants to say no worries. But he is a bit annoyed by such a comment she attempted to make, the things she might’ve been trying to insinuate. It could be harmless and it could’ve been so much more sinister. Calum merely nods. “Apology accepted. Now, what’s your question?”

“Thank-thank you. My question is, uh, in regards to the longevity of this new launch, can we expect this to be a long term investment in your tenor when you transition to take over for your father?”

Calum nods at the question. “As long as I remain at the helm, I do intend to continue to promote and invest in transparency on how the public can and should influence their government. The ‘Talk to Us’ is essentially launch zero, if you will. It’s, again, a function that’s been integrated into the site for years now. But I hope that these initial changes to its location help open the door for much more political discourse between the public and parliament.”

Her descent back to her seat is not graceful by any means. Pamela dives back to her seat and Calum feels a small pang of guilt in his gut. “Thank you again for your time,” Calum turns to address the entire room. “I fear we’re out of time for today. But I do greatly appreciate you spending your Friday afternoon with me. I hope you all have a great weekend.”

Calum steps away from the podium and sees Pamela still buried in her pad. Perhaps, she hadn’t meant harm, but the more Calum let slide, the more people would feel brave with their off handed comments, or worse probes into his personal life. This is a world he’d learned to navigate thanks to the years he’d been raised in. You deserve any and all amounts of privacy that can be scraped together. 

His phone is returned to him when Calum returns to the wings. “Great work out there,” Miranda comments before she turns back to her iPad. 

Calum watches her squint, releasing a sigh before he reaches up to her hair and takes the pair of red glasses down. She’d finally caved in getting the prescription but still refused at times on wearing them. “You might even be able to tell me I did a better job if you could see it.”

“Well my hair’s made the lenses greasy,” she huffs. 

Calum offers his spare handkerchief tucked away into the inner pocket of the suit jacket. “Keep it for the sake of your eyeballs please.”

Miranda hums at the offer, which Calum knows will most likely be her only response to it. “I’ll keep an eye out for the response about Pamela’s probe. Should we ask Times to not put her back on the rotation?”

This question sounds genuine and when Calum turns the corner, he risks a glance over to Miranda. Nothing follows the question--no quip, no retort. For a moment, Calum’s positive it’s a trick question but the silence lingers and weighs for longer than usual. “Uh, she asked a good question in the end.”

“Yes, she did. But from what we’ve discussed, we are in the ‘loose lips, sink ships’ position. And this is your relationship, so speak now before I make the call.”

“Don’t box her out,” Calum returns. “Doing so might send too strong of a message and we’re not really in a position to bring down the hammers.”

Miranda nods. “Could make us look desperate and unfair too. You handled it exceptionally well though today, so I am very proud of that. Next week, the fitting is scheduled as a heads up for the charity event. This does mean, I have to ask, will you and your partner be walking the carpet together? We wouldn’t want to use this event for any sort of announcement, but if the two of you are comfortable with the idea, then we’ll need to just review the etiquette for the event with them.”

Now that’s the kind of question expected from Miranda. Direct, no nonsense, objective focused and lasered in. “I’ll talk to them. They’ll be on display with their painting though and my volunteer time.”

“It’s whatever the two of you decide. I’m just saying should you two walk the carpet together, we make no announcements. You walk, you talk to a couple reporters that are outside but you don’t say anything about the relationship. Even if asked.”

Calum nods, tucking his folder up under his arm after pressing the call button for the elevator. Miranda’s right. The charity event would not be the right place for him to say anything. And he’d be a hypocrite now after handling Pamela to try and steal the stage for such an important event. The two of you could walk it separately in blocks close to each other--he goes first for a minute or so and then you follow. But the two of you would inevitably wind up locked arm in arm as the night progressed. But to walk the carpet together and explicitly not answer any questions would be more awkward in the end. Though, it would matter at the end of it what you preferred. 

“How much should I bet that you need a final decision by the time we meet for the fitting?” Calum asks, letting Mirand into the elevator first. 

Miranda snorts at the question. “I wouldn’t bet anything you couldn’t afford.”

You’re supposed to be going back home tonight after your shift. Though it feels like a good portion of your belongings have drifted into the palace, you spend a decent portion of your time at your own place too. Where you live is technically closer to your job and easier on your car for sure. Calum takes a look at the time. It’s pushing just a couple minutes past four pm. The dinner rush would undoubtedly be starting in the next hour or so and Calum knows he can’t squeeze any extra time out of his day. 

But he spies a text from you, from ten minutes ago, and wonders if he could snag you still once he gets back to his office. The preview of the text stares back up at Calum, Have I ever told you just how…. It piques his interest and he swipes to start input his passcode. “You’ll have an answer Monday,” Calum returns to Miranda. 

“Sounds good.”

Have I ever told you just how hot it is to watch you in that suit dealing with the press? Because if not, I really should tell you how hot it is to watch you in that suit dealing with the press. 

Another text comes through just as Calum starts to type. 

In all seriousness, thanks for handling that particular comment like you did. I know sooner or later things will come out in the open, probably the charity event undoubtedly, but it means a lot for you to still keep this close to the vest still. And you are hot too, which helps. Love you. 

The doors open again and Miranda gestures in Calum’s periphery. He looks up to see her holding out his handkerchief. “Thanks.”

“Didn’t I tell you to keep it so that you have no excuses for not wearing your glasses?” Calum laughs. 

Miranda’s body half way between the doors keeps them from shutting but she eyes him, lips curled up in an unamused smile. “I think it’s a little inappropriate.”

“And I think you should be able to see.”

“Take it,” she orders, waving the cloth at him to take it. “I have a lens cloth in my office.”

Calum edges closer to the opening of the machine. She refuses to meet his gaze and it makes the suspicion increase tenfold.  “Show me. Because if you’re lying.”

“Oh, fine,” Miranda huffs. “I lost it. The same fucking day I got the damn glasses and I lost the cloth.”

“Then keep it,” he laughs. “I’ve got too many of them anyway.”

“Thanks,” she mutters and then starts down towards her office. 

“You’re welcome,” Calum calls out watching the doors slide closed. 

His attention turns back to your text even with the tuft of laughter he releases at Miranda’s stubbornness. I hope I wasn’t too harsh on her. But thank you, baby. I’ll keep that in mind for later. He adds a winking emoji before continuing on,  Is it bad yet for you guys? Love you more.  He asks even though he’s sure he won’t get a response until either your next break or until you leave for the night. But he sends it anyway and swipes through his other missed messages. 

There’s one from Luke in the groupchat, We’ve got Forest reserved at 5:00 PM the Saturday before Michael’s birthday. The restaurant does close earlier than most at 8 just as a heads up. 

Calum hadn’t been fully aware that Forest was even an option for the dinner. He’d tossed out a few options, one was a sushi place that Michael loved for late lunch or a really early dinner and the other was a French inspired cuisine. But it wouldn’t shock Calum if he’d lost track of the names. It does make Calum wonder if it would be feasible to ask you to join. Would it be too awkward for you?

There’s a few more texts in the chat so Calum scrolls down. Ashton asks about the other options they’d discussed and Luke replied that they’d been booked for the time for the time or wouldn’t let reservations be made this far in advance. Forest has a three week window for reservations which allows them to get to the slot now. Given how rapidly schedules shift, Calum knows it’s better to take this now rather than wait too much longer. 

Luke, how many did you confirm for? Calum asks.

They can only support a group of 12 max. So I went with that. I can keep checking other places too in the meantime.

Calum settles into his office chair, popping a few more buttons at his dress shirt. A text from Michael comes through. Forest is cool with me. My parents and I are doing things on my actual birthday. We should be good at 12. There’s you three, me, our plus ones and then a couple dudes I worked with previously I’d want to do dinner with. We can say 9 for a bigger group at some local bars and then call it a night by midnight if that’s cool?

Sounds good to me, Luke replies. 

Cool with me, Calum answers and Ashton replies with the same sentiment of an affirmative. 

Calum wipes to take him back to his text message threads and taps on your name. Michael’s birthday dinner is going to be 5PM on the 17th. It’s at Forest. Do you know if you’ll be working? 

The answer feels like a no. You wouldn’t know because he doubts the schedules made that far out in advance. But Calum prays. He hopes maybe by the cosmos divine art you can see the text message here soon. A watch pot never boils and his eyes glued to the screen won’t make you respond faster. So Calum turns back to his office computer, saves some work for the templates, and data collection. It is a Friday and there’s very little work that he’ll be able to get done or want to get done at this moment. 

The elevator settles and the doors open up to the residency hall. Calum, if he ever had a tie on, would absolutely be tugging it off his neck as he walks towards his bedroom door. Instead, he only has the buttons he works at on his shirt. There’s still no text from you. He knows the dinner rush has gone up in its major swing. But when his phone buzzes, and Calum checks it to be sure if it’s not you, he contemplates if he’s going to agree to the schedule he made of working out in the evenings. He knows he should. There’s been a lot of time spent indoors, cooped up by his computer and various documents. It’ll be good for him, even if it’ll hurt just a little, so Calum pulls himself free from the dress pants, shirt, and shoes. He dawns himself into the basketball shorts, his workout sneakers and a t-shirt. He even takes the stairs back down. 

The air is crisp outside; it hits his lungs sharply and Calum’s grateful for it. The grass crunches just a little under his feet as he settles the free weights down. Calum starts with stretches, trying to loosen the left hip that likes to get a bit stiff on him. It’s an old injury, probably from one of the few times Calum pushed himself a little too hard in games. He hardly feels it when he’s on top of his physical therapy regime. But he falls off every few weeks when things get busy and the stiffness makes itself known more and more. Calum knows he should coordinate another appointment with his physical therapist about it. Maybe during the holiday break he’ll snag an appointment.  

His headphones play a thrash of guitars, the high tssing of the symbols on the drum kit come filtering through. Calum pulls the dumbbell up, the tightening of his bicep letting him know he’s doing the exercise right. As much as it can feel like a drag, as much as the weights do get heavier as the sets go on, Calum finds the small sliver of peace. When he’s got no thoughts but keeping track of his reps. The motions are up and down, the brace of his core, the inhale and exhale. Calum focuses on the press, the pushing of the ground away from his body as he goes through a round of pushups. 

Twenty-nine, thirty. 

His music lowers for a moment, a chime louder than his music. Calum keeps pushing up, taking himself back down, and then pushing back up. Thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six. Another chime cuts through. 

Forty. 

His knees brush the ground first as he releases his plank and digs out his phone. I wish I’d seen this sooner, reads your reply. Turner just asked me if I was okay with working that day because of a large party and I said yes. 

Calum pants, the sweat running down the lines of his face. Though it’s cold outside, the jumping jacks, the exertion of his exercises have made him sweat. Calum can’t lie, part of him is  tempted to ask if you could switch out the hours, but he knows. You’re not just working to kill time in the day. You’re working to survive. You’re working to take care of yourself and potentially as it looms your siblings too. 

Calum wipes at his brow before working over the screen to reply. Well, the invitation for you to join for drinks after will still stand if you’re up for it. 

Sounds good. I’ll make sure Michael’s well taken care of though. Promise. To make up for missing out on the festivities, could you find out his favorite sweet treat?

Calum nods without thinking. I will. Let me know when you get home, yeah?

Of course. Also, to answer your earlier question: it’s busy as fuck. I’m literally in the freezer right now trying to compose myself just for a second. 

Calum snorts at the mental image--you in your uniform tucked into the walk-in freezer. But he also knows what it means, just how busy things have gotten. A piece of guilt rises up in his throat, like bile it burns. He’d never meant to make things worse. He never meant to put you in such positions. But nothing changes what’s happened. The only thing now is forward. The only thing now is what could be made of what’s happening in the present. 

Tell the tomatoes to be kind to you, Calum replies. 

“Don’t tell me I need to call the nurse with the way you’re breathing.” 

Calum looks up to his father, who grins down at him. Calum laughs at the quip, as patchy as it comes. “No, no need to call the nurse.”

“Dinner’s ready, you know. Pretty sure it’s some fancy pasta I’ll never be able to pronounce."

With how thick the early evening is around them, how dark it is for only how early it feels, Calum is not shocked that it is dinner time. He nods, wiping at his dripping brow again. “I need to clean up but I’ll be there in a minute.”

His dad lingers and the words are pressing at the back of Calum’s teeth, if everything is okay, but his dad beats him to the punch. David grunts as he lowers himself into the grass next to Calum. “You’ll help me up, right?”

“Yeah, Pops, I will. What’s up? I thought dinner was ready with some fancy pasta you can’t pronounce.”

“It is, it is. But I was, well, I know there’s been a lot of conversation that’s sort of up in the air about when me and your mother are going to take a step back from the game. And I know it’s something you’re thinking about. You did real well in your press conference today. I do think that sometimes the best solutions are the most simple ones. I just wanted to see when the two of us could really sit down and talk about what that transition will look like and when we’re both comfortable with it. And, and I’m not asking we do it right now. But soon, in the new year, we look at our schedules and find a good day for it.”

It’d been an ever approaching deadline--something that would happen and would happen sooner rather than later. But it still felt far away in praxis. Transitioning of power was a thing that was approaching but it hadn’t hit the horizon. Now, though, as Calum watches his father, he thinks perhaps he’d been counting on at least a couple more years, something closer to thirty than not but nothing ever happens like anyone wants for it too. 

Calum nods though at his father’s request. “Yeah, we can find a time for that.”

“Good, good,” David returns, patting at Calum’s knee. “And things are okay? Anything you need to talk about?”

“Things are okay.” They’re far from perfect, but they’re not bad. Yet, Calum doesn’t voice that. The balance in the universe was not to make things perfect by his definition. 

“That doesn’t sound too convincing. You alright?”

“It’s--it’s just life, Dad. You know? Every up has a down.”

“What kind of downs are we talking?”

From the night, Calum catches the scratch of the crickets tuning up for the night time songs. The darkness is closing in rapidly and ruthlessly. As much as Calum did want to voice his concerns, he also knows his father is going to be a solution oriented person. The second a problem crops up, his father wants to find a solution for it. Calum’s not really looking for solutions right now. “It’s anthills,” Calum answers. Because they are, they are small concerns in the grand scheme of everything. “But I can handle them. I know I can.”

“Well, if you need reinforcements, I got your back.”

“Will do, Dad. Thanks.”

“And, and if you need to just vent, I’m here for that too.”

It’s anthills. And they were small, but still mighty. “Guess, it’s just sort of scary to know I’ll actually be taking over, you know? It was real, but was always sort of in the distance.”

“It is scary,” David agrees. “It’s very scary. But just because you’d be taking over doesn’t mean I’m not there to help. Consider me a consultant.”

“What’s your retainer fee?” Calum jokes, watching the grin bloom on his father’s face. 

“Oh, don’t worry about that. But it’s okay if it’s scary. You’re human doing something new for the very first time. It’s going to be scary. And the next time you do something for the first time, that’ll be scary too. But the more you do the things, the less scary it gets you know. It’s like when you learned to drive. You were terrified to get behind that wheel. But look at you now. A driving whizz. It’ll take you some time, but I’ll still be there for you. Promise, son.”

It’s reassuring, certainly. Calum won’t be doing it all alone, but it’ll be his face and his name that’s riding on everything that comes after the transition. That’s the part that terrifies him. Yet, Calum can’t control what hasn’t happened yet. To worry about what hasn’t happened wouldn’t only serve to paralyze Calum in the long run. But the fear bubbles, like a pot left on simmer, Calum can feel it in his gut. It’s going to be a strange time. “Thanks, Pops,” Calum offers softly. 

“You’re welcome. Now, help me up, yeah?”

Calum laughs as he works himself up. “No one told you sit down on the grass.”

“Oh, hush.”

It’s with a few grunts, but Calum helps his dad up. “You good?” Calum asks and gets a nod in response. “I’m going to get these weights inside and at least wash my hands and face before joining you and Mum.”

“See you inside.” 

Calum’s left with a pat on his back, but as the night chirps around him, he hopes that he’s not really alone in all of this. The weights are a little heavier than they were before but Calum gets them up with no issue. He ducks into one of the bathrooms on the first floor, washing his hands before splashing water over his face. He watches the water drip down his chin. He wants to tell you--how scared he is, how much he doesn’t want to do this, but knows he’s got no other choice. But will it seem trivial?

Yet somehow right behind the doubt, he hears your voice, telling him that it doesn’t matter if it’s small, all that matters is that he’s scared. And that it’ll be okay. It’ll be okay, Calum chants to himself down the hallway and back into the kitchen. It’ll all be okay. Because it has to be okay. Because it’s been six years of Calum in Cabinet and it’s all worked out so far. So it’ll keep working out in the end. 

“Oh, you stink,” Joy laughs, as Calum slides into the bench across the table. 

“I washed my hands and face at the very least,” he grins-- a rule ingrained into him from his childhood. 

She shakes her head, sliding the plate closer his way. “At least there was that.”

The warm water is a welcomed reprieve, after dinner and clambering his way back upstairs, Calum can feel himself craving bed. It’s early, he knows. But the fear from transition is heavy on his bones. It’s not even late enough for you to be off work so he can’t call as you drive back to your apartment. And he wants to stay awake long enough for that, for the hum of your drive and the soft lull of your voice. 

But in the stillness, Calum holds to the quiet voice in the back of his head. What will it all mean when he takes over? All the while you asked him what he wanted to do, what really made him happy, and all the while Calum answered that he would always do his duty, he would serve. And he’d be proud to serve; he is. But his father has already been the crutch. Calum’s never been on his own doing this. Does he actually want to do it? Or is this just the natural reaction of fear?

It all feels like being underwater. When he falls into his mattress, Calum feels the whoosh of air like a head ducking under the surface of water. There is a world above him--the duty he’s always followed, the path that always felt like loomed before him no matter what twists and turns he took in his life. But he is in the water, arms scoping water at his sides to keep him afloat and his movements feel slow and sluggish. Is this really all that he’s wanted? Could it all be just the things Calum’s told himself to believe so it makes it feel less like force and more like choice?

The ticking of the clock is long, but at some point his ears goes numb to the sound, focused instead of keeping up with the race of his thoughts. He chases them round and round as they go. 

The ringing of his phone pulls him back up and out of the rush and thump of his internal dialogue. Calum fumbles for a moment to get the phone off the charger, but when he finally gets a firm grip, he answers the call. 

“Hi, love,” you answer--certain and confident that it’s even Calum who’s answered. 

“Hi, baby,” he returns, falling back down into the mattress again. 

“What is it? Something on your mind?”

“How’d you know?” he laughs. To him, he sounds all the same. But the immediacy in your question makes him wonder if he’s really as good as he thinks at keeping things under wraps with you.

“Just a feeling,” you return. 

“I think my number’s been called. Dad wants to talk in the new year about transitioning out of power.”

You hum. In the background, Calum hears the beeps of cars, the rush of the wind as you walk, probably to your car. “It was always coming. But I sense something more.”

“It’s scary. Didn’t think it would be so soon. Don’t know if it’s fear or genuine how much I’m worried about taking over.”

“Fear of what?” you question. “Fear just because it’s new or something else?”

Calum pulls his phone from his hear, tapping to switch the conversation to speakerphone. It’s buying him time. Because if he says it out loud, it feels like he’s making it true. But he’s not going to hide from you. He won’t let himself do that. “Fear that I don’t know what I really want.”

“We’re all afraid of that.” Your voice echoes against the four walls of his room, fills the space in such a way that he could hardly imagine that you’re just in the bathroom. 

“You seemed pretty confident about cooking.”

“It’s a means to an end. Something that I can use anywhere to make ends meet. I like cooking, at the end of the day it helps me not feel so bad about life. But I don’t know if I was put on this planet just to cook or not.”

“I guess that’s the question, huh. Have I been put on this planet just to work in politics?”

“Well,” you start, a pause echoes with the thud of your car door. “Have you? Have you been put on this planet just to work in politics?”

He wants to say no. But if he’s honest, this has always been the end of the line for him. Taking over as King was his finish line. That was the stamp on his youth, to mail it off and close down the chapter. Calum’s always thought that this is in fact the end. It’s a means to an end. But even if Calum wants to agree that he hasn’t been put on this earth just to wind up as King, he doesn't know what else is there?

“But what am I if not meant to be King?”

“Well, you’re Calum. Who trained for a summer in Brazil for football, who plays the guitar, writes some songs. You’re Calum who loved his dog for every second he walked the earth. You’re Calum who baked his mother a birthday cake and it actually held together. You’re Calum, who manages to find just the right words when they’re needed, who loves deeply and selectively. And you’ll be so much more too. But the truth of the matter, you will never find that answer in a day, in just one conversation. It’ll take years. You’ll be a King, and work in politics, and be so much more. This is not an either-or situation, maybe. I know I asked previously about it. And I apologize if that made it seem like you had to choose. Perhaps, you don’t have to choose.”

Perhaps, you don’t have to choose. “Yeah,” Calum agrees, gaze focusing in on his ceiling. He does actually miss those stars now that he thinks about it. He wonders where he could find the stencils again. Would it be stupid to paint them back? “Maybe you’re right.”

[haveyouseenthisseries-poll]

[lirarey]

I just found out about the existence of the "Behind the Masks" video from Monstober. Knowing that the "Descendants" cast and Calum Worthy are involved is amazing.

[wintercat666]

Calum Ross as Rowan Laslow

Wednesday (2022)

[kindahoping4forever]

📸: Andy Deluca

Via Rock Sound's 25 Icons Series

[theroyalmisfitmess]

No thoughts except for that one day-off in 2014 the Austin & Ally cast spent together eating food, visiting a library, and taking pictures.

“12.15.14” (via @ross_lynch then @rossr5 on Instagram)

[doveabovetheworld]

A concept:

You and Ashton met through work when you started a new job as 5 Seconds Of Summer’s official photographer/social media coordinator, but when you wake up next to him after a party, your whole life takes a turn.

[gengarsstuff]

Introducing Arthur Watts, and his wife, Tanya Watts.

To be trapped into marriage with one of the most despicable men in London must be a hard hand to be dealt. Worsened by the knowledge of raising a family under his roof.

(Assumably) their five children, from oldest to youngest are:

Damien Watts, 26. The perfect heir to his fortune, if only he were legitimate.

Mia Watts, 23. A tragic start to adulthood left her broken and alone.

Nathaniel (Nathan) Watts, 21. Ready to inherit the Watts fortune, it's such a shame he's as lazy as upper class men come.

Bianca Watts, 21. Dreams of the perfect love match, destined to follow her mother's footsteps, or be disowned by her father.

Tyler Watts, 20. Would his life be different if he knew who his real father was?

[gothluke]

lashton as squishmallows (pt. 1?) 🧸🫧🍯