#ashton 5 seconds of summer

[kaleidoscopecth]

A Flower Bud In Concrete

MDNI

pairing: ashton irwin x hemmings!reader

summary: a surprising reaction to a negative pregnancy test has you and ashton discovering some new kinks

warnings: absolute filth be warned, heavy breeding kink, dirty talk, slight oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cum play, fingering, hair pulling, choking, mentions of COVID-19

word count: 5.9k

title: more by halsey

a/n: LAWD it’s about damn fucking time i write for ashton. the things i would let him do to me YOU DONT GET IT. anyway this is absolutely the filthiest thing i have ever written and i love it, huge thank you to a special someone for helping me out w this, your filthy brain never ceases to amaze me. anyways, hope you guys enjoy some filthy quarantine (post?) smut with black haired ashton because i loved writing it

also, this was inspired by @souperbloom and their AMAZING ashton blurb “island time” which you NEED to read.

Copyright © 2025 kaleidoscopecth. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The word messy didn’t even begin to describe your life. It was almost comical, the way everything had derailed so quickly—like the universe had yanked the rug out from under you, leaving you to scramble in the aftermath.

Your mind spun as you sat in your car, staring at the unopened test on the passenger seat. The small box seemed to glare back at you, taunting you with the weight of fear it carried. Just looking at it made your stomach churn, flashes of a future you didn’t dare let yourself imagine creeping into your thoughts. You shoved them away just as quickly, refusing to let yourself hope for something that felt so far out of reach.

Your phone sat untouched on your lap, the weight of it somehow heavier than it should have been. You hadn’t even pulled out of the driveway yet, but the thought of what you were about to do made you want to retreat into the safety of your car forever. With shaky hands, you picked it up, your fingers hovering over the screen before you numbly dialed the number you dreaded.

Ashton, of course, didn’t take long to answer. He picked up on the second ring, his voice bright and cheerful as always. “Hey, Y/N,” he greeted, the smile in his tone almost palpable. “Didn’t think I’d hear from you today. You coming over? ‘Cause if so, I should probably clean—”

“You don’t have to clean up anything,” you interrupted, your voice sharper than you intended as you bit down on your bottom lip. You stared at your lap, the words you needed to say catching in your throat. Finally, you forced them out. “I have a test… I’m late. And, uh, I figured I should be with you when I figure out why.”

The other end of the line went silent, the lack of response from Ashton tightening the knot of stress already coiled in your chest. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, waiting, the quiet stretching unbearably.

“Does Luke know?” he asked at last, clearing his throat as if trying to sound casual.

You shut your eyes, frustration flaring at the mention of your little brother. “Why the hell would he know if he has no idea about us?”

“Right, right,” Ashton groaned, his tone sheepish. There was a pause before he continued, softer now. “Okay, well… I’ll see you soon, alright? You’ll take the test, and we’ll figure it out from there. Just like we always do.”

His voice was so kind, so gentle and reassuring that you could almost cry. “Okay,” you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper as you let out the breath you had been holding.

“Don’t sweat it, babe,” he reassured, the nickname falling off his lips without any hesitation. It sounded almost natural, and it definitely made your stomach tighten. “Everything will be fine.”

You frowned, looking out your window and taking in the relatively sunny day. “Yeah, I guess so,” you mumbled. “I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

Ashton shifted in the other line. “Drive safe.”

The call hung up with a soft click after that, leaving you once again in anxious silence. You threw your head back against the seat, letting out a long, defeated sigh as your hands came up to grip the wheel.

You first met Ashton when he was just a scrawny kid with hair that swooped over his eyes—your little brother’s annoying friend. Despite being only a year older than him, his friendship with Luke made him feel much younger in your eyes.

When your acting career started taking off, you didn’t give Ashton—or anyone else from those days—much thought. At least, not until their cute little YouTube covers got discovered and their band skyrocketed to fame. Thanks to your close relationship with Luke, you began seeing more of his bandmates.

Ashton always lingered a little closer than the others, his nervous energy unmistakable. The rest of the boys treated you like their older sister—occasionally annoying, but familiar and comfortable. It was obvious Ashton’s feelings were different, but you never dwelled on it.

Not when you met Daniel. He was everything you thought you wanted—kind, charming, and effortlessly sweet. You’d been hesitant at first, unsure if your feelings would match his, but he quickly swept you off your feet.

For nearly five years, the two of you were happy together. Everyone in your life adored him—even Jack, who could be overbearing at times, warmed to him easily.

He was everything to you, his smile brighter than the sun itself. Daniel had shown you a new side of life, filling it with warmth and the promise of forever. But promises are fragile things, and eventually, he broke his—leaving you shattered and alone to gather the pieces of your broken heart.

As if that wasn’t enough, the world began to crumble around you. Whispers of a new illness dominated every conversation, and soon enough, isolation became your reality. Alone in your home, with no one for company but your own thoughts, you struggled to hold on. Work had slowed to a crawl, and seeing friends was too risky.

Ashton had always been the kind of person who would give you the shirt off his back without hesitation. His compassion extended to everyone in his orbit, always checking in to make sure they were okay. So when your phone lit up with his call, something inside you broke.

You poured your heart out, tears spilling as he listened to every word of your pain. He let you cry, soothing you with soft words and a patient ear. You felt terrible about it—he’d only been calling to check in out of kindness, not to become a makeshift therapist.

You apologized over and over, feeling guilty for taking up his time, insisting that what you really needed was professional help. But Ashton wouldn’t hear of it. He reassured you, his voice firm yet gentle, that it was no trouble at all. “I’m happy to listen,” he said. And you believed him.

That’s how it started—a strange kind of pen-pal relationship born out of quarantine. It became rare for you not to be on the phone with Ashton. What began as conversations about Daniel and your heartbreak gradually turned into something lighter. You talked about life, movies you’d seen, and the places you’d go when the world opened up again.

One night, during one of your usual calls, Ashton said something that made your breath hitch. His voice, normally so confident, was uncharacteristically shy.

“Yeah, so… basically,” he started, hesitating for a moment. “I only called you. At first, anyway. I was bored out of my mind, sitting in the house with nothing to do. And—I don’t know—I just found myself dialing your number. I’m glad I did.”

That confession had shifted something inside you. Ashton—who had always just been Ashton—suddenly became something else entirely. You started noticing the little things: the way his cheeks dimpled when he smiled, how a stray black curl would occasionally fall over his face, or the intense focus in his eyes when he drummed.

When restrictions eased, your friendship transitioned from FaceTime calls to in-person hangouts. Being around Ashton felt surprisingly effortless. He had a way of calming your nerves with a joke or a warm smile, and sometimes, you couldn’t help but notice how his touch lingered just a little longer than necessary.

One night, the two of you got carried away, talking late into the night.

“Shit,” you groaned, glancing at the time on your phone. “It’s so late.”

Ashton just smiled, shifting closer to you on the sofa. His eyes were red from the blunt you’d shared earlier, but they still sparkled with that familiar brightness. “So stay,” he said casually. “I don’t see why you should go.”

The thought of returning to your lonely house made your stomach sink. Staying with Ashton, basking in the warmth of his company, felt like the only right choice. But one thing was clear: if you stayed, if your eyes kept flicking to his lips, you would do something you might regret.

And you told him that.

Maybe it was the weed loosening your tongue, or maybe it was the way Ashton looked so unfairly good in his old muscle tee and shorts, but the words spilled out before you could stop them.

To your surprise, Ashton’s lips curved into a slow, teasing smirk. “What if I want you to?” he murmured, leaning impossibly closer. His hand lifted to your face, his fingers lightly tracing along your jaw and down your neck. His eyes never left yours, their intensity making your heart race.

So you gave into your innermost desires and kissed him. And he kissed you back.

The next thing you knew, you were a tangle of limbs on the carpet, the crackling fire casting shadows of your moving bodies across the room as muffled moans filled the space.

That’s how it started—how your unconventional relationship began. You’d made it clear from the beginning that you wanted to take things slow, unsure if moving on from Daniel so soon was the right decision. You and Ashton agreed to keep things casual for now, just hooking up and seeing where it led.

Another mutual decision was to keep your arrangement private—especially from Luke. Your little brother had always been harmless, and you weren’t worried he’d be angry about your relationship with Ashton. But you didn’t want to get his hopes up either. Luke would’ve been over the moon if he found out his best friend and his sister were together, so until you both were certain about where this was headed, Luke would remain in the dark.

For a few months, it worked seamlessly. Life had started to regain a semblance of normalcy as the year drew to a close. That was until your period decided to throw you a curveball.

The drive to Ashton’s place was filled with anxious thoughts and worst-case scenarios playing on a loop in your mind. By the time you pulled up to his house, your hands were clammy from gripping the steering wheel, and the box of pregnancy tests in your lap felt heavier than it should.

You rang the doorbell, clutching the box tightly as if it were a lifeline. Ashton took a few seconds to answer, but when he opened the door, his warm smile melted a fraction of your fear.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he greeted, pulling you in by the waist and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. His easy affection steadied you, if only for a moment.

“Hey, Ash,” you murmured, your voice barely audible against his lips. Pulling back slightly, you met his gaze, searching for any sign of unease or irritation. All you found was concern and affection in his hazel eyes.

Ashton frowned, his hand coming up to cradle your face. His thumb brushed gently across your cheekbone, and he gave you that signature reassuring smile. “Go take the test. Whatever it says, we’ll figure it out together.”

You let out a shaky breath, leaning forward to rest your head against his chest. For a moment, you allowed yourself to stay there, wrapped in the safety of his arms, wishing you could freeze time and keep the weight of reality at bay.

But you couldn’t hide forever. Reluctantly, you pulled back, giving him a weak, trembling smile. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

“I’ll see you on the other side, Y/N,” Ashton replied with a small nod, his voice steady as he let you go.

With your heart pounding, you walked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You avoided your reflection in the mirror, unwilling to face the physical manifestation of your nerves.

Hands shaking, you unwrapped the first test and let out a deep, uneven sigh. The whole thing felt absurdly humiliating—peeing on a stick to determine the course of your future. In another situation, you might have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.

But this wasn’t that kind of moment.

You capped the test and placed it on the sink, refusing to look at it as the seconds ticked by and the result formed. There was no use in dwelling on it, or stalling the results, so with a deep breath, you reached out and shakily grabbed the test.

Not pregnant.

The words were blunt and stark, staring back at you with an unrelenting certainty. Yet, a sudden surge of denial hit you. That couldn’t be possible, could it?

You had expected relief to come with those two words, but it didn’t. Instead, tears pricked at your eyes, and you slumped onto the closed toilet seat, unable to tear your gaze away from the test in your trembling hand.

How insane did you have to be to feel sad over a negative pregnancy test? The thought rattled in your mind as a quiet sob escaped your lips.

You had always wanted kids—or at least one. The idea of becoming a mother had been a dream you carried for as long as you could remember. It was a dream that had, in part, torn your relationship with Daniel to shreds. He had made it abundantly clear he didn’t want kids, especially not when you and he had faced a similar predicament.

But you did. You wanted one with everything in you.

Your chest tightened as you shut your eyes tightly, trying to push away the ache clawing at your heart. Maybe it was for the best, you told yourself. After all, you and Ashton hadn’t even defined the status of your relationship. You hadn’t dared to dream of having that kind of conversation, let alone one about kids.

Still, the weight of disappointment was unbearable as you wiped your face and mustered the strength to walk out of the bathroom. Ashton was standing a few feet away, leaning against the wall, nervously biting his nails.

His gaze snapped to you the moment you appeared, his body straightening as he pushed off the wall. He looked tense, his brows slightly furrowed, his hands fidgeting.

“Well?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly with the anxiety he was trying to mask.

You bit your lip, forcing yourself to keep any trace of emotion out of your voice. “I’m not pregnant,” you said evenly, squaring your shoulders as you met his eyes.

For a moment, Ashton’s expression softened, something flickering across his face that you couldn’t quite place. But then, to your utter surprise, you caught a glimpse of disappointment.

Your eyebrows shot up in shock as you instinctively crossed your arms over your chest, your protective wall snapping into place.

“Let’s have a kid,” Ashton breathed, the words tumbling out as if he hadn’t thought twice. His eyes locked onto yours, wide and earnest, his tone full of sincerity.

You drew in a sharp breath, blinking rapidly, your mind struggling to process what he’d just said. There was no way he could possibly mean it.

“Ashton,” you said incredulously, your tone laced with disbelief, “we just lost our shit thinking I might be pregnant. And besides”—your voice rose slightly as your confusion gave way to frustration—“we’re not even together. Not really.”

Ashton shook his head, closing the distance between you in a few determined strides. His hands cupped your face, his breath warm and slightly uneven. “We are now,” he murmured, an excited gleam lighting up his hazel eyes. “So let’s have a kid. You and me.”

For a moment, you were frozen, staring at him in stunned disbelief. This had to be some kind of sick joke. Who in their right mind would randomly decide to have a baby on a whim—especially with someone they were just casually hooking up with?

But then again, there had never been anything truly casual about you and Ashton. Not the way his touch lingered, how his kisses felt like promises, or how his presence made everything seem softer, lighter, easier. It had always been more than either of you admitted aloud.

His gaze stayed locked on yours, wide and earnest, as if begging you to say yes.

“You were freaking out,” you whispered, though the fight had already left your voice. Deep down, you were searching for any sign that Ashton might back out of this sudden decision, that he might have second thoughts.

Instead, he just shrugged, his lips curving into a soft, hopeful smile. “I was,” he admitted. “But then I started thinking—I love you, Y/N. I always have, and I always will. And even though this isn’t the most conventional way, I’d love to make something real with you. And that something?” His voice dropped, full of quiet conviction. “It definitely involves a baby.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your brows furrowing as you tried to process his words. Who in their right mind would agree to this?

Apparently, that someone was you.

“Okay,” you said, your voice soft but steady, a spark of excitement rising to the surface and chasing away your fear. “Let’s have a baby.”

Ashton’s face lit up with pure, unfiltered joy. He let out a triumphant whoop, his hands moving to your waist as he lifted you effortlessly, spinning you in the air. Laughter bubbled out of you, breathless and giddy, as the weight of uncertainty slipped away, replaced by something far more exhilarating.

“I love you too,” you mumbled breathlessly as Ashton set you down gently. You were still giddy, your mind flashing with images of your possible new future. Your hands came up to Ashton’s shoulders, watching him.

His hands lingered at your waist for a second, his eyes softening even more. His smile was radiant, lighting up the room, and he looked almost boyish. Your heart swelled in your chest as you looked at him.

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” you breathed, nervous laughter bubbling up inside you. “We’re really going to do this?”

Ashton laughed, leaning his forehead against yours. “We’re doing this,” he confirmed, his voice sure and steady. He brought his hand up to cup your face, his thumb briefly brushing over your bottom lip. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

A faint blush krept up your cheeks, the words lighting a fire inside you that was almost surprising in its intensity. You should have been scared, after all, your life was going to forever be altered, but it was exhilarating.

”What now?” you asked softly, your fingers absentmindedly brushing through Ashton's hair. The jet-black color suited him far more than you wanted to admit, and the sight of him like this-confident, certain, and utterly yours-sent a thrill down your spine. “Where do we even start?”

Ashton's eyes darkened, his lips curving into a devilish smirk as his gaze locked with yours. “We start by making that baby, of course,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. The playful elation in his tone had shifted, replaced by something deeper, more primal.

The heat in his voice sent a shiver racing through you, and you swallowed hard, excitement and nerves dancing in your chest.

Ashton didn't wait for you to respond. Instead, he closed the distance between you in a heartbeat, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

It was demanding and all-consuming, leaving no room for second-guessing. His arms tightened around your waist, holding you flush against him as his lips moved against yours with practiced skill. You melted into his touch, your hands threading into his hair, tugging just enough to elicit a low groan from him.

Ashton coaxed your lips open with teasing nips and soft bites, his tongue sweeping over yours, tasting you like he couldn't get enough. A muffled moan escaped you as you felt him lift you effortlessly, his grip firm but careful as he carried you through the room.

The world tilted slightly, and before you could process where he was taking you, your back met the cool surface of the kitchen counter. You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, smirking as your eyes met his. “The kitchen, Ash? Can't even wait until the bedroom?”

“Too far,” he murmured against your lips, his voice husky with need. “Need you now.”

Before you could respond, you heard the unmistakable sound of fabric tearing. Your jaw dropped as you looked down to see your shirt now hanging in shreds, the pieces slipping from your shoulders. “Ashton!” you gasped, half-laughing, half-scolding. “You ripped my shirt!”

He pulled back briefly, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. “It was mine first,” he said nonchalantly, his mouth returning to your neck to leave a trail of kisses. “You can steal another one later.”

You couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of you, though it quickly turned into a sharp gasp when his lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear, making your breath hitch. His hands roamed your body freely, sliding up your back to unclasp your bra with practiced ease.

When his calloused hands cupped your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze, a soft groan escaped your lips. Ashton took it as encouragement, his fingers teasing your nipple. His mouth followed soon after, trailing hot kisses down your chest before capturing your nipple between his lips.

Your head fell back as he gently nipped at it with his teeth, a moan spilling from you.

Meanwhile, his other hand began its slow descent down your stomach, stopping at the waistband of your shorts. “God, you're gonna look so pretty, all full of my cum,” he growled against your skin, tugging the fabric of your shorts down your legs.

Ashton's mouth continued its heated journey down your body, every inch of you humming with anticipation. The thought of him finishing inside you sent a thrill through you that you couldn't deny, and as he kissed along your stomach, pausing at your hip bone, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him.

When he looked up, his hazel eyes were dark and glassy with lust. His teeth caught the edge of your underwear, and you let out a soft gasp as he began to pull them down, agonizingly slow.

Ashton let your underwear fall to the floor, his hands gentle as he spread your thighs apart. His lips parted slightly as he took in the sight of you, laid out on the kitchen counter, wet and glistening just for him. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, quickly yanking off his sweater and tossing it somewhere in the room without a second thought.

His hands slid up your thighs with deliberate slowness, his touch sending shivers through your body. He traced a single finger along your folds, biting his lip as he collected your arousal. “You're so pretty for me,” he murmured, voice husky. “Such a pretty pussy.”

When his finger slipped inside you, a sharp gasp escaped your lips, and your back arched off the counter instinctively. Heat flooded through you as he added a second finger, curling them just right, finding that spot inside you with practiced precision. A loud moan spilled from your throat, your body trembling under his touch.

His lips found your neck, sucking and biting the sensitive skin, marking you without hesitation. “Since we're telling everyone we're together now,” he murmured between kisses, his breath hot against your skin, “I'm gonna make sure they know. You're mine.”

“I'm yours,” you whimpered, your voice breathless and needy as his fingers sped up, your legs shaking with the intensity of it all. If he kept this up, you wouldn't last much longer.

Ashton hummed in satisfaction, his lips curving into a smile against your neck.“That's right, baby. You're mine. Gonna fill you up to the brim, put a baby inside you. Isn't that right, pretty?”

You nodded frantically, tugging at his hair for something to ground yourself. His words only spurred you on, the heat in your core building to a fever pitch. But just as you were about to tip over the edge, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and desperate.

A frustrated whine escaped your lips as you propped yourself up on your elbows, ready to protest. But your words died in your throat when you saw Ashton hastily kicking off his jeans.

When he pulled down his black boxers, freeing himself, your eyes widened. You had been with Ashton countless times, but he had never looked so painfully hard. His cock stood thick and ready, the tip an angry shade of red, glistening with his own arousal.

Before you could fully process the sight before you, Ashton's hands were on your hips, pulling you off the counter. He gave you no chance to protest, spinning you around and bending you over the cold surface.

“You're gonna take all of me,” Ashton growled, his voice low and commanding as he lined himself up with you. “And you're gonna love every second of it. Be a good girl for me. Good girls get my cum.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, and your hands gripped the edge of the counter so hard your knuckles turned white. “I’ll be a good girl,” you gasped, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, Ash. I want you to fill me up. Please.”

A smirk played on his lips as his hand slid around your waist and down between your legs, his fingers expertly teasing your clit.

The sensation sent shockwaves through you, making your knees buckle slightly. Your moans grew louder as Ashton ran the tip of his cock along your entrance, the teasing driving you to the brink.

“Beg for it, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice dripping with dominance, his fingers working you mercilessly. Every nerve in your body was alight, your need for him consuming every thought.

“Please,” you cried, your voice breaking into a small sob. “I need you, Ash. Fill me up, stretch me out, put a baby in me—please, I'm begging you.”

Ashton groaned low in his throat at your words, his control slipping as he finally pushed into you, slow and deliberate. “That's my good girl,” he rasped, his grip on your waist tightening as he buried himself inside you inch by inch. “And you're gonna take every single bit of me, aren't you?”

The stretch of Ashton finally filling you up was overwhelming, nearly enough to tip you over the edge instantly. You didn't know how you'd gotten so worked up, but as he buried himself to the hilt, the sensation was so intense tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you whimpered, your voice trembling. Ashton's hand trailed up your back, settling around the back of your neck, his grip firm but not overwhelming.

“Yeah? You like being stretched out like this?” he rasped, his voice thick with arousal, his hips unmoving as he stayed buried deep. “You're so fucking tight, baby. You feel so good wrapped around me. I'm gonna come so hard for you, so deep.”

A soft whimper escaped your lips, your frustration building as Ashton still refused to move. His free hand roamed down your body, squeezing your hip before pulling back and landing a sharp slap on your ass.

The sting sent a jolt through your body, making you clench around him involuntarily. Ashton groaned low in his throat, the sound deep and guttural. “God, I wish you could see yourself right now,” he muttered, smirking as he delivered another sharp smack to your ass. This time, the moan that escaped you was loud and unrestrained. “So pretty, bent over a counter for me, taking me so well.”

You nodded eagerly, your eyes squeezed shut, every nerve in your body focused on the feeling of Ashton filling you. “You're so warm,” he groaned, his hips shifting just slightly. “I need to hear you. Every gasp, every moan— want it all. If you hold back from me, baby, you'll regret it. Got it?”

The threat sent a shiver down your spine. His earlier promise not to finish inside you if you misbehaved hung heavy in your mind, the thought alone making your chest tighten with desperation. “Fuck me,” you begged, your voice shaky and whiny. “Please, Ash, just move already.”

Ashton let out a low chuckle, dark and taunting. “So needy, aren't you, sweetheart?” he teased, his words dripping with smug amusement. Before you could respond, he pulled out of you slowly, the sensation drawing a loud moan from your lips.

“Don't whine,” he chided, his tone sharp but playful. “You're gonna take what I give you.”

But mercifully, Ashton seemed to decide your torture had gone on long enough. On his next thrust, he pulled out almost completely before slamming back into you, the sudden force stealing the air from your lungs. A yelp tore from your throat as his hand tightened in your hair, pulling your head back slightly.

Ashton set a punishing rhythm, his hips slapping against yours with every thrust. The lewd sound of your bodies colliding filled the room, mingling with your loud, uncontrollable moans. The delicious friction he created with each movement made your legs shake, the intensity overwhelming.

“That's it, good girl,” Ashton purred, his voice dripping with approval. “You take me so well. Can't wait till you're all round and pretty for me,”he murmured, his thrusts growing harder, more deliberate. “All mine. My perfect little cum slut.”

The possessive tone in his voice made your entire body shudder. His hand tugged at your hair again, pulling you upright and flush against his chest. His other hand slid up to knead your breasts, his fingers tweaking and teasing your nipples as he continued to thrust into you relentlessly.

One hand slowly slid up to your neck, wrapping around it gently before applying just enough pressure to make your head spin. The dizziness only heightened the pleasure coursing through you, amplifying every sensation.

But Ashton didn't hold for long. His hand eased away, and your hearing slowly returned as you gasped for breath. He released your nipple and pushed you back down onto the counter, his voice low and rough. “So fucking perfect,” he groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair again, using it for leverage as he pounded into you harder.

The heat of his movements, his filthy words, and the way he dominated every inch of your body brought you closer and closer to the edge. Your moans and whimpers grew louder, each pull of his hand in your hair sending a delicious mixture of pain and pleasure rippling through you.

“Baby, I'm close—” you choked out, your voice breaking with need.

“Yeah?” Ashton rasped, his hips never losing their relentless rhythm. One hand slid between your legs, finding your clit and teasing it with quick, precise circles. The intensity made your breath hitch, and he leaned in, his voice dark and commanding. “Come for me, baby. Show me how good I make you feel. Show me how much you love my cock.”

You couldn't hold back. Between his unforgiving thrusts, his dirty words, and the way his fingers worked you with expert precision, the pressure inside you finally snapped. A loud cry tore from your throat as you came, your entire body trembling violently with the force of your release.

Ashton's lips brushed your ear as you shook beneath him. “Just like that, sweetheart,” he murmured, his fingers never faltering even as your body slowly began to come down from its high.

“Ashton,” you gasped, your legs trembling uncontrollably. “Fill me up, baby. Please— need your cum.”

His breathing was ragged, his pace becoming erratic as he chased his own release. “I'm close, baby,” he groaned, his hand slipping away from your clit to grip your hips tightly. His movements grew sloppy, and he buried himself deeper with each thrust. “I'm gonna come so deep inside you. Gonna fill you up, make you mine, put a baby in you.”

It didn't take long before Ashton's rhythm faltered, and he let out a broken whimper of your name. His body shuddered as he spilled into you, the warmth of him flooding your core just as he'd promised. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he rode out the waves of his orgasm, each twitch of his cock making you moan softly.

For a moment, the two of you stood there, completely still except for your heaving breaths. The only sound filling the kitchen was the ragged symphony of your labored gasps. Your body felt boneless, leaning heavily against the counter to stay upright.

Ashton pressed soft kisses along your shoulder blades, his warm breath fanning your damp skin and making you shiver. “You’re gonna look so hot as a mum,” he teased with a lazy smirk, slowly pulling out of you.

You whined at the sudden emptiness, the loss of him leaving you aching. Before you could protest, Ashton turned you around and lifted you onto the counter. The cold marble against your bare skin sent a jolt through your body as he gently spread your legs wide.

His eyes glittered as he took in the sight of his release dripping from your core. “Can't let any of this go to waste,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

With deliberate care, he slid a finger along your sensitive clit, making you gasp sharply. Then, without hesitation, he pushed a finger inside, catching the white ribbons threatening to spill out and gently pressing them back into you.

The overstimulation had your legs shaking again, and you propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him work with hooded eyes. Every touch sent sparks shooting through you, and the satisfaction on his face as he ensured none of his release escaped made you ache for him all over again.

Ashton knelt before you, his hazel eyes locking onto yours with a mischievous glint before he leaned in, running a slow, deliberate stripe along your core with his tongue. His movements were unhurried, carefully cleaning you up without disturbing the evidence of his release too much. He only lapped up the small traces that had escaped, trailing down your thighs.

When he was satisfied, he pulled back, the soft sound of his lips parting making you shiver. Rising to his full height, he grinned widely, his expression smug and satisfied. You returned his smile with a lazy one of your own, reaching up to tug him down into a soft, lingering kiss.

“I love you,” you murmured against his lips, your voice tender. “And this was... definitely fun.”

Ashton pulled away just enough to meet your gaze, his grin morphing into a playful smirk. “I love you,” he began, his tone laced with mischief, “and about that…”

His hand slipped down between his legs, stroking his still semi-hard cock until it stood at full attention once again. Your breath hitched as you watched him, speechless, as he lined himself up with you once more. With an achingly slow push, he slid back inside you, making both of you groan at the sensation.

Your arms gave out beneath you, leaving you fully leaning against the counter. “Gotta make sure it all stays in there,” Ashton murmured, his voice low and strained. His hips rolled gently, his eyes fixed on where your bodies joined. “Give me a few, and we'll go again. Maybe even one more time after that.”

A soft laugh escaped you, the movement causing your walls to flutter around him.

Ashton let out a deep groan at the sensation, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice breathy but teasing. “We can do this as much as you want.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

hope u enjoyed u nasty freaks. my requests are closed atm but my inbox is open if you wanna chat :)

[souperbloom]

in through the out door. [A.I.]

title snatched from the led zeppelin album of the same name

🪴roommate!Ash x reader

cancelled plans and a Saturday night in with your roommate, Ashton, brings you to make some rash decisions. ones that you don’t necessarily regret.

a/n: i’ve been obsessed with the roommate trope since this has been sitting in my drafts. i’ve been working on this one for so long im absolutely in love with roomie ash he is my golden boy

heavy inspo from @badomensbaby (i’m obsessed with you)

the gif i put is exactly the ash i pictured for this but feel free to picture whatever era you’d like :3 cocktail chats!ash is vERY GORGEOUS TO ME!

this is a long one, brace yourself. thinking abt making roomie ash into a series— let me know!

CONTENT WARNINGS: fluff n’ smut!, brief mention of smoking, playful banter/pet names, oral (f/m!receiving), size kink (kinda), pnv/riding, praise kink.

WORDCOUNT: ~10.3k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Stars glistened in the velvety pitch black sky while the pale moonlight trickled down to illuminate your apartment balcony. A perfect summer night, somewhat dictated by cancelled clubbing plans, had now left you stranded.

Okay, stranded may be a bit harsh. You suppose ‘unsatisfied’ was a slightly more fitting word to describe the scenario you had been left in.

The cancelled plans in question prompted a late night hang out and smoke session with your long time friend and roommate, Ashton. Also known as, the biggest pain in your fucking ass.

"Heads or tails?"

Ashton was a homebody. Occasionally stepping out of his comfort zone in order to entertain the people he loved, Ashton was no stranger to making quick celebrity appearances at social gatherings. But he was also no stranger to dodging plans and making excuses to stay home and rot.

So when your old friend Luke had texted the two of you in a group-chat saying that plans had gone awry, Ashton had no complaints.

"Why are you asking me that?" you chuckle towards your slightly dazed roommate, sitting crisscross in your wicker patio chair.

"Don’t ask. Just pick. Heads, or tails?"

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek for a moment, watching as Ashton tosses a quarter mindlessly in and out of his palm.

Watching the coin occasionally catch the lighting of your balcony made you wish it was some sort of disco ball or strobe light. But then again, there was no possibility of you changing the events that unfolded well over two hours ago, so it was in your best interest to just forget about it.

"Hm. Heads."

"Heads?" Ashton echoes, sitting up slightly in his chair to take a hit of the joint you were splitting.

"Yeah, heads. Don’t know why but— I just feel it."

With an eyebrow raised, he shrugs, before tossing the coin up into the air and catching it with his other hand. He slaps the quarter onto the inside of his wrist; but the up side remains covered by his palm.

"Heads, right?"

"Yeah. Heads. That's what I just said, dumbass."

His side glance to you indicated that your blunt insult had rolled right off of his shoulders. He took in an exaggerated deep breath before removing his palm from the coin.

"Tails."

"No shit. You’re lying. Show me."

Ashton chuckles and picks up the coin, showing you the tails side of the quarter; the side it had landed on.

"You had a 50/50 shot and you blew it. What are the fucking odds of that?"

Slightly annoyed by this stupid game of chance, you scoff. "Did you really just make a big show of that to make me feel stupid?"

"I wasn’t trying to make you feel stupid. Then again, it’s not my fault that you are—"

You cut him off by shooting him an icy glare. A watch your mouth kind of glare.

"—Sometimes. Not all the time."

"That’s what I thought… Now, pass it. You’re hoggin’ the shit."

Begrudgingly, Ashton does what you had asked of him. He ashes the joint into the ashtray before extending his arm across to you. You pluck the stick from between his fingers with a satisfied smile, before taking a pull yourself.

Ashton’s mannerisms, although mildly annoying, had become somewhat of a comforting thing to you. You appreciated the way he always did the things you asked him to; despite occasionally putting up a fight about them. He was also very kind when need be— a shoulder to cry on, an open ear to listen. You lucked out in the friend department, and you couldn’t have been any happier with the outcome of the game of chance you played when you asked him to be your roommate.

The second bedroom of that two bedroom apartment could’ve gone to anyone. But Ashton jumped at the chance.

Now that you thought about it; it was kind of like a coin flip. 50/50 odds of success.

"The sky is so fuckin’ clear tonight. I feel like I’m tripping or something."

You shake your head, briefly knocking you out of your Ash-induced space out, "Nah, I see it too. It’s like, so clear, that it feels like it shouldn’t be— y’know?"

Ashton turns to face you, biting back a teasing smile. You return the glance as well. "What? Why're you making that face?"

"Be honest with me. Do you think about the end of your sentences before you say them?"

"You’re such a dick!" You chuckle, knowing full and well that whatever you had just said indeed made zero sense, "I thought you were too blitzed to notice."

"I’ve got the tolerance of a 100 year old tortoise. Nothin’ gets me that blitzed anymore."

"That’s a you problem then. Personally, I could take one wrong hit and be knocked out for the rest of the night. Depends on the day, really."

These kinds of meaningless conversations were, sometimes, the best part of your day. With yours and Ashton’s lives being so seperate, despite living under the same roof, it was nice to have someone to talk about nothing with.

He was like a palette cleanse. The calm amidst the chaos.

Although, to describe Ashton Irwin as calm was quite a generous compliment.

"How ya' feeling right now? Since it depends on the day, according to you."

Taking his question with careful consideration, you stretch out your legs and arms, before rising to your feet. A blissful sigh falls past your lips while your limbs fall limp, the joint still dangling between your fingertips.

You glance over at him to catch his attention, but he had already been watching.

"I feel fucking fantastic."

"Good to hear," Ashton agrees, "Me too."

"Oh yeah?" you challenge, walking over to the balcony and leaning your elbows onto it to look off and speak into the distant sky, "What’s got you feeling so good?"

There’s a brief silence that falls over the balcony. One that’s unbroken; eerily quiet, with nothing else but the rhythmic summer sounds of crickets and cicadas.

Your brows furrow at this deafening pause, bringing you to look over your shoulder back at him.

He was still just staring at you.

With hooded eyelids and a passive smile, Ashton’s eyes traipse down your body, a glimmer within them that made a pit form in your stomach. A glimmer that you hadn’t really noticed until right now.

Maybe it was the lighting from the patio, or the mix of moonlight and a foggy head; but he looked— different.

The way his button-down hung loosely off of his shoulders, displaying his sharp collarbones and assortment of stacked necklaces. The way his arms tensed each time he reached up to fiddle with the necklaces in question. It was all putting you into a— compromising headspace.

His posture was relaxed, yet you sensed a bit of urgency in his eyes. You weren’t quite sure where to place it.

The reaction you were having to these small details of his demeanor were making you sick to your stomach; it felt right to break the silence.

"You gonna answer my question? Or are you just gonna stare at me?"

Ashton shakes his head and reverts himself back to eye contact. He blinks a few times, rolling his lips inward as he continues to tamper with his jewelry.

"What? What did you ask me? M’sorry— Maybe I am a bit higher than I thought."

You turn around completely so that your back is pressed against the railing of the balcony, giving him your full attention. "I asked what’s got you feeling so good… Guess I just answered my own question."

"Oh," Ashton mumbles, sinking deeper into the cushion he was resting on, "Yeah."

You quietly clear your throat at the awkwardness, due to how evident and absolutely mortifying it felt. Ashton’s gaze had long left yours and was now staring out into the sky, following the stars while he drummed his fingers mindlessly against the wicker.

Something inside of you was doing summersaults and whatever it was felt oddly new. It was awfully strange how you couldn’t seem to pull your eyes away from him, not even for a second.

You didn’t even want to attempt asking yourself why suddenly, out of the blue, your roommate and closest friend of 5 years was now looking like a meal ready to be devoured.

It’d be too complicated.

"What the hell are you looking at?"

Ashton interrupts your slight mental turmoil, his voice low and authoritative.

"Uh—"

"You were looking at me. Don't do that."

"Oh, so you can look at me, but I can't look at you?"

Your brow furrows, crossing your arms over your chest as you glance down the light hitting the pendant of his necklace.

"It's impolite to stare," Ashton taunts, "And now you're looking at my boobs. How dare you."

"Shut the fuck up! I was not 'looking at your boobs.' I was looking at your fuckin' necklace. God you're such a jackass."

"I hate to break this to you, but someone who wasn't staring at my tits wouldn't get so defensive about it... I don't mind, y'know. With a rack like this, it's hard not to stare."

Ashton pokes his tongue out through his teeth, cupping his pecs with his hands as if he was trying to show off his 'boobs'. You try your hardest not to laugh, suppressing it by chewing on your bottom lip and shaking your head.

"If it makes you feel better," Ashton starts again, sitting up and resting his elbows on his knees, "I stare at your ass all the time."

"You—" your breath catches in your throat, taken aback by his admission, "You what?"

"Okay, shit, don't look at me like that... Now I feel judged."

"I'm not judging you," you chuckle, "I just— didn't think my ass was worth staring at. Plus, I always thought you were more of a boobs kinda' guy."

The tension between you was heating up now, boiling and bubbling over like water on a stovetop.

"Oh, I am. Trust me. 'Stare at those too."

"Ashton!" you squeak, hiding your face in your hands as your cheeks warm pink.

"What?! We've lived together for how many years now? Can't fuckin’ blame me."

The game of ping-pong happening in your head was getting harder to ignore. It could've been the very small amount of weed you'd smoked, or the fact that you've been bored out of your mind since your plans had gotten cancelled, but Ashton was starting to look different.

Very different.

You weren't sure where to step with your next choice of words, but at this point, you really had nothing to lose.

"Is this you finally admitting that you're attracted to me?"

"Hm. Maybe," Ashton replies casually, a bit more casually than you'd anticipated.

"Maybe? Explain."

"Well, you are beautiful. I believe I've told you that before."

Your eyes widen at his compliment, feeling like you were shrinking by the second. "I thought you just said that to shut me up that one time..."

"I may have said it to shut you up but, I did mean it. I'm an honest boy... Notice how you remembered? That's gotta be good for something."

A chill runs down your spine, followed by a genuine, tried-and-true smile. You and Ashton had gone through so, so much together. Breakups, fights between friends, natural disasters; it was easy to let the little things slip past your mind.

But you'd never forget the time he called you beautiful.

"You know Ash, I've never noticed how attractive you are when you're not being a pain in my ass."

Ashton's lip twitches up into a smirk, as if his head had just travelled to where yours has been this entire time.

"I'm flattered. Being a pain in the ass is one of my major selling points."

"Consider me sold," you tease, rubbing your arm as the warm summer breeze flows through the balcony. You watch Ashton's eyes narrow, as he studies your body language with intent. There's a brief pause in time; and Ash seemingly shakes himself out of it with a puff of his chest.

"Ugh, I'm fucking bored," he grumbles, tossing himself back onto the throw pillows.

You nod in agreement, biting your tongue. The next thought to cross your mind was in territory you had vowed to never explore. But it was late, you were pining for something else to do other than stare at him while the tension only continued to grow thicker.

As you said, you had nothing left to lose.

"Me too... wanna fuck?"

Ashton's eyes widen as the world around you just— stops.

"What?"

Oh, shit.

"I— We don't... We don't have to. It— was just a suggestion."

Ashton licks his lips, his face morphing as if attempting to process the words that had just left your mouth. You could already feel the sweat rolling down your temples, beginning to regret having asked him at all.

"You’re fucking with me, aren’t you? Yeah, you’re fucking with me…"

You shake your head, having already dug yourself this deep… Why not go deeper?

"Mmmh, no. I’ve actually thought about it a few times. Honest."

"Oh my god," Ashton chuckles, momentarily ceasing your rapidly beating heart with its playful air, "you’re such a loser."

"Calling me a loser after I’d just asked if you wanted to have sex with me… Real’ charming."

Your cheeks were hot and your lip was now twitching with anticipation. In an attempt to ease your mind and regain some of your composure, you put the joint out in the ashtray.

It may or may not have also been an attempt to step closer to him.

"I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he scrambles for recovery, “I didn’t mean it like that, I just— If you’ve thought about it before, why haven’t you said anything?"

"Oh god, can we talk about that another time? If I told you every instance in which I’d thought about having sex with you, we’d be out here all night."

You were feeling slightly more at ease now after reverting back to your playful energy, although the subject matter was still making you sweat.

Ashton���s eyes were wide and somewhat bloodshot, akin to how late it was, and now due to the information bomb that you had just dropped onto him. You felt bad for hitting him with it all at once but, if you’d kept it in any longer, you might’ve exploded.

"Would now be a good time to admit that I’ve thought about it too?"

You trill your fingers against your thigh, now with a pit in your stomach, "Yeah, probably. I guess it’s honesty hour."

"Awesome, awesome," Ashton hums, taking in a deep, shaky breath.

"…Well?" You couldn’t bear to leave the question hanging in the air for any longer.

"Well what?"

"Do you wanna fuck me or not? The offer might expire if you take any longer to answer."

In a hurry, Ashton stands up, wiping his palms on his jeans and adjusting his belt. He looks at you, frantically.

"I mean, shit— yeah… Yeah, I’m down. Fuck it. Why not?"

A small smile spreads across your cheeks as he steps closer to you, "Good, good… Now, don’t make me fuckin’ regret this.”

Without giving you any time to process what exactly had just happened, Ashton is barreling towards your legs. He wraps his biceps around your thighs before tossing you over his shoulder, leaving you to dangle with your face and arms hanging above the ground.

"Ash, what the fuck!" you squeal, whacking his back with your hands as he makes it a point to tear open the screen door and start running you through the apartment.

"You told me not to make you regret this!" he giggles, nearing towards, from what you could tell by looking at the floor, his bedroom.

"That didn’t mean to fuckin— oh whatever!" You huff, slightly out of breath, as Ashton fumbles with the doorknob. He kicks the door open, and you laugh at his eagerness.

"How’s that for a grand entrance?" says Ashton, as he lifts you again to lower you down sideways onto his bed.

"You scared the shit out of me!" you chuckle, regaining your vision as you had become somewhat dizzy.

"My bad. ‘Thought that move would boost my sex appeal."

The two of you laugh for a moment as Ashton gets situated on his bed. He sits with his back nestled against the headboard and you watch sitting at the foot of it, unsure of where to go next.

Once he’s all settled into place, he looks at you with a warm smile before patting the top of his thigh. "Have a seat."

"Don’t mind if I do."

With that same smile still plastered onto your face, you crawl over, and straddle yourself onto his lap. His hands remain stagnant at his sides, as do yours. There was an odd feeling swirling in your chest that came along with the closeness, but you couldn’t describe it.

"This is weird. I don’t think I’ve ever been this close to your face before," Ashton comments, his eyes wavering as they scan the features of your face.

"Yeah… To think that we’ve been roommates for 5 years and haven’t even kissed. Our self control is truly remarkable."

"Well, if it’s still honesty hour, I’d like to add that I’ve thought about that too."

Ashton swallows. You could feel his hand jittering around down by your calves as he moves the other up to cup your waist.

"Thought about what? Kissing me?"

"Mhm… It was that Fourth of July party with Luke and them down at the beach— a few years ago. I was drunk out of my fuckin’ mind… May or may not have rambled to Luke and Cal about how badly I wanted to kiss you on the pier."

"Drunk words are sober thoughts," you grin, feeling more comfortable with his weathered palms grazing your skin. "But that’s kinda’ sweet. I didn’t think you had it in you to be that sweet."

"I feel like if I did it with no buildup it would’ve been awkward as shit. But, I appreciate the compliment."

You scoff, finally feeling enough confidence built up within you to rest your hand on his neck. "Ash, after all the shit we’ve been through, I don’t think anything can be awkward between us."

"Well, I guess this can be added to the list of ‘shit we’ve been through’, yeah?"

The frantic, nervous energy around you had begun to settle, pooling onto Ashton’s plus grey comforter. You gaze around the room, taking in all of the details you would’ve never noticed if it weren’t for a moment like this.

"Nice place you’ve got here," you comment, your eyes darting around at the various band posters and random findings scattered around Ashton’s off white walls. Stolen street signs, pushpins serving as necklace holders, birthday cards from yourself and whoever else celebrates with him. It was all so unapologetically him, and it was making you feel a bit sick.

Ashton chuckles at your apprehension, beginning a slow rhythm of drumming his fingers against your hip. "Why’re you acting like you’ve never been in here before? Is someone nervous?"

"Nervous? Me? No, never. I’m as cool as a cucumber," your lip twitches, your hand traveling from his neck down to rest onto his bare chest. "Although I must say, your chest is fucking hairy."

"You sure you’re not nervous?"

"What makes you think I’m nervous?" You cannot seem to pull your eyes away from the necklace pendant sitting between his pecs.

"You like to say random shit when you’re nervous. I know you a lot better than you think, bubs."

You freeze at the nickname, the one Ashton had lovingly coined you with a few years back; it seemed different coming out of his mouth now, speaking on the fact that you were inches away from his face and straddling his lap.

A lot of things felt different now.

"You’re right, shit. I’m sorry… I swear I’m not usually like this I— I’m normally a lot sexier—"

"Is it different ‘cause it’s with me? Because we don’t have to do this if—"

"No—" you cut him off abruptly, shaking your head with a reassuring smile, "I want to. I wanna’ do this. With you. It— it was my idea after all. No backing out now."

The rhythmic tapping of his fingers on your hipbone had turned into a gentle, soothing rub. It was oddly relaxing, the way his fingertips felt brushing against you.

It had even distracted you enough not to notice how his resting hand had traveled up to your waist to match the other.

"So… do we just— go for it?" Your voice comes out a bit shakier than you’d planned.

Ashton’s lips weave into a straight line, a sardonic look in his eye, masked with obvious amusement. It was clear he was entranced by your awkward charm.

"I dunno’. I didn’t really think this far ahead."

That comment earns a smile out of you, you whack his chest gently which is proceeded by a soft ‘oww’ from Ashton.

"We should stop talking. Maybe that’ll help," you suggest.

Ashton nods, his eyes fixed on your lips as he pulls his own to the side, "I like that idea… Any idea to get you to stop talking is a great idea to me."

"Fuckin’ dick," you tut, watching that smile of his turn into something a bit more wicked, "Maybe if you stopped being an asshole, I would’ve kissed you by now."

"What’s with all the ‘maybe’s? Maybe this, maybe that… You’re all bark and no bite. That’s what it sounds like."

"Or…" You trail a seductive finger down to the first fastened button of his shirt, "…Maybe you’re nervous too, and you’re stalling."

Ashton shifts beneath you, adjusting his hips to meet yours and suddenly the feeling of his body is threatening to pull a soft whimper from your throat. He notices the subtle notch in your brow, and the way his touch affects you.

Oh, who are you kidding. Nothing about you goes unnoticed around him.

"Not stalling, no. Just wanna make sure your head doesn’t pop off your shoulders from how fuckin’ nervous you are."

You don’t respond to his comment. Instead, you just fiddle with his shirt collar, your mind already racing at the thought of the events threatening to unfold. Despite your timid manner, Ashton speaks again.

"Bubs, if you wanted me to take the lead, you should’ve just said so."

There was something swirling in the pit of your stomach now, that tension from before reclaiming its rightful place above your heads. You tilt your head to the side and admire his plump, rosy lips; the shades of fern and honey spilling into his irises and making them shimmer.

This newfound infatuation was becoming an issue.

Without another word, and no sense of anything else to do, you lean in slowly. You could feel as Ashton holds his breath the moment you start to tilt your head forward. But rather than closing the space between your lips and his, you place a quick kiss on his cheek.

You pull away. Ashton chuckles.

"That was cute."

"Shut up," you mutter, heat instantly rushing to the apples of your cheeks.

Ashton then leans in as well, that same, agonizingly slow speed in which you did, and pushes a gentle kiss onto your cheek.

"Are you making fun of me?"

"How would this be making fun of you? I’m just reciprocating what you’re comfortable with."

At this point you can’t seem to control the way your words are just falling from your mouth, "Well, I know I’ve kissed your cheek before, I think— it was probably a really long time ago. I thought it would be easier than to just go for it all at once. Because then if I did, I’d—"

Just as you’re rambling on and on about everything and nothing at the same time, Ashton places his index finger onto your lips, smushing them together and instantly shutting you up.

"Y/N. Please. Stop talking."

You pout, feeling him switch that index finger to a thumb, and use the rest to cup your chin. He drags that same thumb down your bottom lip, slightly parting your mouth and drawing a very, very quiet whimper out of you.

"Let me take the lead, alright? You trust me?" he asks, eyes earnest and longing.

"Mhm," you reply, melting like ice cream on a hot summer day.

"Good," he hums, satisfied, still holding your chin loosely, "Now c’mere."

It felt as though there was an entire galaxy of stars and planets behind your eyes and you pinch them shut, leaning in to finally bridge the gap between your lips and his. The first touch felt like a flame igniting in your chest— the taste of him a lot sweeter than you’d imagined.

And you’d imagined this a lot more than you’d ever admit.

He hums into you, that hand once stagnant on your hips now wandering up and down your sides. The kiss itself was slow, yet the fervor behind your wordless exchange was picking up pace. And fast.

You couldn’t even process how quickly the kiss began to deepen, his tongue now exploring and tangling with yours.

There was something deeply satisfying about kissing Ashton; like an itch you were just dying to scratch. You felt so comfortable in this satisfaction, enough to lace your hands around his neck and up into his cleanly cut curls.

Your hips were working on their own time, subtly grinding down into his crotch and creating friction that just felt like heaven. It was an indescribable feeling.

Ashton pulls away suddenly, leaving you to stammer slightly and a small sigh to slip past your throat.

"I’ve gotta get this off of you," he comments, tugging at the hem of your tee.

"Ditto," you smile, wordlessly beginning to undo each button of his shirt, as far as you could reach.

It was now a frenzy of undressing one another; soft giggles and glimmering smiles with each article of clothing removed until it was down to his boxers and the underwear you had blindly picked out of your drawer this morning. But despite the unfortunate pair of briefs, Ashton’s fond gaze remained.

"If I knew this was happening, I would’ve put more effort into picking out my shit this morning," you say, reclaiming your place on his lap.

"It doesn’t matter to me, bubs," he quips, taking his broad palms and cupping your ass above your underwear, "They won’t be on for much longer."

"You’ve got quite the mouth on you Fletch," you giggle, taking in how obscenely he was biting down on his bottom lip, "Might have to put it to good use tonight."

Before you could blink or even think of another word to say, Ashton is cracking down his palm onto your asscheek, echoing a loud, playful smack.

"Way ahead of you, smartass."

The kiss from before picks back up in a frenzy, like it was some competition of who could bite the shit out of each other’s lip faster. You loved the energy that he was exuding; his demeanor and playfulness still remaining the same while driving you absolutely up the walls in arousal all at once.

"My God, you kiss like an angel—"

The words tumble past Ashton’s lips and knock into yours, the compliment instantly reddening your cheeks.

"You’re just saying stuff. Stop being stupid," you whine, feeling your decorum slipping through your fingertips as they traced circles up and down his jaw.

"I’m not saying this all to humor you, you know. As I’ve said a million times, I’m an honest man."

"You’re really beating the shit out of that dead horse, Ash. How many times in a night are you gonna call yourself honest?" You can’t help but giggle, overwhelmed by the feeling of his skin.

"If you’re gonna call my bluff, then I’m gonna’ keep reinstating the fact that I’m honest. Humble brag."

You puff your lips, swatting him on the chest and letting his silver chain catch onto your finger, "Whatever."

Ashton pauses all movements for a moment, examining your face. You could see his pupils and how they doubled in size the moment they reached your collarbone.

"Wanna start pickin’ up the pace here. I’m getting quite frustrated."

"Sexually? Or are you frustrated with the fact that your roommate is super fucking hot?"

He scrunches his nose, a dimple poking out at the bridge of it, "You say I’ve got a mouth on me but— it seems like you learned from the best.

"The walls in this apartment are pretty thin," you admit sheepishly, half embarrassed, half aroused, "I hear everything."

"Is that right?" he quizzes, his hands slowly traveling down your waist to the tops of your thighs.

"Yup. I hear it all."

Although you had never pictured yourself and Ashton to be presented with a situation similar to the one you were in now, a flutter taps through your chest as you recall the many nights you’d spend with your head buried in your pillows. Attempting, and failing, to drown out the sounds of Ashton’s late-night callers.

"And how does that make you feel? Does it— bother you?"

As his question trails off, you feel his hands creeping closer to the inside of your thigh. The sensitive skin that hadn’t been paid any attention since the last time you’d landed yourself a hook-up, a few months ago.

"N-no. Doesn’t bother me. Not that much, at least."

"Well if the sound of my headboard smacking against the wall doesn’t bother you, it’s gotta make you feel something, no?"

You didn’t want to lay out all of your cards, or give him the opportunity to use this shared experience against you in a moment of weakness. If you were more honest with both Ashton and yourself, you’d tell him that the feeling you get when you hear those animalistic noises could only be described as curiosity. Fascination.

And a dash of jealousy.

"I’m indifferent," you shrug, ignoring that wandering hand of his, "I turn my music up louder when I know you have someone over."

"Ah, but you see. That’s not what I hear. You’re as quiet as a mouse when I’ve got company around. Seems to me like maybe you’re interested in what you’re hearing. Or maybe— you’re listening."

Your jaw falls agape at his brusqueness, "Am not! I would never that’s— that’s fucking weird!"

He seemed to be growing fond of how uncomfortable he was making you, but that feeling faded away when his face melted into a smile.

"I’m just messing with you. I couldn’t give a shit if you were listening. Although, the thought of it is creating commotion in my lower half— the more I think about it."

"You’re such a loser," you chuckle, "Put that lip you’re giving me to good use and just kiss me instead."

With no complaints or comebacks, Ashton obliged. You hated how redundant it felt to keep leaning back in for that same kiss over and over— but a part of you couldn’t help it. After thinking about what it would be like to kiss your best friend, and now getting to actually experience it:

You’ll never look back again.

In a daze, you dismantle Ashton’s lap. You aren’t sure what brings you to do this but it’s explained by how quickly he was able to aid you in slipping out of your underwear. The two of you giggle, you smile into the kiss, all of the endearing little things that made kissing him so worth it. You even managed to fully switch places without letting your lips disconnect.

Not even for a second.

"I really like kissing you." Ashton reads your thoughts, as he does quite frequently.

"Me too," you breathe, staring into those glittery sage eyes as they bore into you from above.

“We should just kiss for forever, maybe.”

“Oh my God,” a giggle slips past your lips, “I’ve bewitched you.”

The warmth of Ashton’s body on top of yours was compensating for all of the corny, seemingly lovesick nonsense the two of you were spewing. His laughter alone made tiny little goosebumps surface across your arms as you hooked them around his neck and let your fingers get lost in his curls.

“Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered,” Ashton begins to hum a familiar tune, his voice rich like dark chocolate and flying in through one ear and right out of the other. You can’t help but laugh, overcome with emotions that you haven’t felt in quite a long time.

“You know, I always forget that you can sing.”

He ends his brief song by burying his face into the crook of your neck, starting an eager trail of open mouth kisses down to the base of your throat. His body moves sultrily in tandem with the rhythm of his kisses, his head nearing towards the valley of your breasts.

“Can I kiss you here?”

His eyes perk up to meet yours, momentarily drawing you out of blissful sighs. He uses his index finger to point at your chest, awaiting your permission.

“Mhm. You can kiss me theeere….”

He follows orders. You decide to play along.

“And you can kiss me heeeere….” You move his index finger towards the top of your left breast, pointing at your nipple.

Ashton’s gaze flickers with a pinch of excitement, lips hovering over towards where you had directed him. Without breaking eye contact, he lowers his parted lips to engulf your nipple, and begins to suck on it gently.

That first wave of euphoria rips through your body as he works away at you, his tongue swirling around the bud with purpose. You knew he was a boobs guy but shit, you didn’t know the extent of it. His other hand finds the breast that he had left unattended, massaging it delicately as he teased you with his tongue.

"Jesus Christ, Ash—" your sentence is broken off by your breath getting caught in your throat as he grazes your nipple with his teeth.

A satisfied hum leaves his chest, and he briefly pulls away.

“Can I leave marks on you? Please, God that is so fuckin’ sexy.”

“Mhmm. Sure, do whatever you want, just—"

The moment your permission hits his ears, he’s biting down on the top of your breast and drawing harsh breath from your throat. Surely he’d leave a hickey or two in his trail.

Ashton continues his path of love bites, all of them turning a deep mauve the moment his lips leave the surface of your skin. You thrum in amusement, happy with the pretty douses of color and silently pleading for more of them.

“Fuck,” he mutters, taking a moment to admire his handiwork and trailing his thumb across a particular hickey left on your chest, “I did quite a number on you, didn’t I?”

“Everyone’s gonna make fun of me, I hope you know.”

“If they have anything to say about my artwork, they can take their questions up with the artist, m’kay?”

Ashton’s body was nearing dangerously close to where you were pulsing for him the most. You toss your head back into the pillows when Ashton leaves a few more kisses beside your navel, he was moving awfully meticulously and a part of you was growing impatient.

“Ashton—” you croak out, watching his lips meander down to the top of your thigh as he slots himself between your legs.

“I know, bubs. I know. Getting a bit needy now, aren’t we?”

“Oh Christ, Ash, don’t say it like that,” you attempt to hide your flushed cheeks behind your hands, “I’m not that selfish.”

Ashton doesn’t allow your expression to be hidden, so he takes it upon himself to reach up and pry your fingers away from it.

“Mmmm, greedy. Is that a better word?”

You scoff, “God no, that’s even worse.”

“Desperate?”

“Fuck no.”

“How about you give me an, ‘Ashton, I need you’?”

He smiles the moment his hands come in contact with the soft skin of your inner thigh. Maybe he thought distracting you with jokes and mockery would help put your mind at ease.

“Your impression of me is shitty.”

“I disagree— I think it’s spot on,” he defends, settling into his stomach, “Unless, you wanna prove me wrong.”

“And how would I do that?”

“Well, you’ve gotta say it. Duh.”

You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to grab ahold his taunting face as he hooks his arms around the backs of your thighs. He’s now face to face with your core and quite honestly, you don’t think you’d ever been this wet before. Not for anyone.

Hm.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a low groan, “—Excuse me for being vulgar but fuck, you’ve got such a pretty pussy.”

His words make you bite down on your lip, and your tongue; the chokehold he had on you in this given moment was beyond doubt. You couldn’t find any semblance of a thought to give him, so you just moaned in delight.

“Can I taste you? Please? I’ll make you feel so good— God, you’re just dripping for me, aren’t you?”

“Ashton—” you warn, not entirely sure if you were warning him, or yourself.

“Are you gonna say it?”

“For fuck’s sake,” you roll your eyes, sick of the pestering and condescending questions, “say what?!”

“I’ve been between your legs for less than a minute and you’ve already forgotten what I’d asked you to say! You are unbelievable.”

You could feel the warmth of his words with each breath he took radiating onto your skin, and the thought of him refusing to just indulge you was making you want to bitch and moan.

“God you are so annoying,” you whine, “can’t you just—”

“Just what? Eat you out ‘til you’re begging me for mercy? Is that what you want?”

“I’d prefer that instead of sitting here with your head between my thighs while you argue with me, yeah! This is kind of unfair!”

Ashton tuts softly at your whining, clicking his tongue with a shake of his head. His cheeks lift into a sinister smile as he drags his fingers along the tops of your thighs.

“Well, I hate to be the one to tell you this but, life isn’t fair. Not everybody gets what they want, y’know?…”

Ashton’s new game of hard to get, easy to slap was making you seethe. You didn’t think he’d take your typical, platonic bickering into the bedroom. Especially in such a high stakes situation.

But you figured out this mental game he was pulling fairly quickly, when he gazed sharply into your eyes and muttered these words:

“…And if you want it, you’ve gotta fuckin’ beg for it.”

His eyes flickered with challenge while yours continued to flutter at him with hopelessness. Desperation, at best. You never thought you’d be begging Ashton for anything more than something as mundane as washing the dishes—

But hey, life is strange.

“Ashton, please—” his words are getting to your head the more you think about what his felt like between your thighs, “I need you.”

“Say it like you meeeeaannn iiiit.”

His mocking, singsongy tone could’ve earned him a crack to the jaw on any normal day. But now, he was slowly creeping his hands towards the most sensitive portion of your inner thigh. Enough gentle touching from him could’ve sent you into orbit right then and there.

“Ashton, I want you. I— I need you.”

He cracks another menacing smile, fingertips digging into your flesh and leaving etchings in their place. That face of his was a tell all: this was the end of the beginning.

“Atta’ fuckin’ girl.”

Immediately, Ashton’s head tips down, his tongue dragging slowly across your folds in a motion that sends electricity bolting through your veins. You pant slightly, the sounds you were sure he was listening for trapped somewhere in your larynx.

He repeats this taunting act, eyes closed in bliss. So you take it upon yourself to bury your hands into his curls and pull a moan from his chest.

His skilled tongue was unrelenting, showing absolutely no mercy as he moved it around your clit. You became more confident in the sounds you were making, letting whimpers fly past your lips as you tugged at his curls

“Mmmhhh, fuck,” you groan, hoping your words would pull some sort of reaction out of him. On cue, Ashton’s head pops up slightly, and he makes it a point to replace that nimble tongue with his fingers.

“You like that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you reply breathlessly, twirling one of those curls around your finger as his makes circles around your clit.

“Mmm, yeah you fuckin’ do… Mind if I get a little rough with you, bubs?”

You blink slowly, watching him stare you down through hooded eyes that were complimented by sun kissed cheeks and freckles. There was no way you could say no to that face, especially since he’d asked so politely.

“O—okay, yeah. That— that’s fine.”

“You sure? Don’t want you to be uncomfortable. Jus’ say the word and I’ll slow down—”

“No— God, no. Please, don’t slow down.”

The words came out of your mouth faster than you could process them, sweat instantly beading across your forehead as Ashton’s face lifted into a smile. Something sinister was behind that damned smile and always had been.

You’d just never really picked up on it ‘till now.

That smile of his faded away between your thighs and the sounds of your heartbeat were quickly drowned out by moans and cries. Ashton dove back in to indulge in you, locking his biceps around your legs and pulling you tight.

“Holy shit Ashton— You— Fuck!”

Ashton does nothing but hum in delight. If only you could see his smug expression beneath the valley of your breasts, but you were glad his mouth was occupied by something other than being a sarcastic piece of shit.

You were thoroughly enjoying how knowledgeable he was of you already; he picked up on all of your signs right away. Obviously, he knew you like the reflection in the mirror and he knew just how much you enjoyed the gentle suckling at your clit and occasional nips on the insides of your thighs.

“Ash,” you pant out, weakened by his tongue, “I’m really fuckin’ close—”

“Hm? What?”

As your stomach bubbled over and made it feel like your insides were coming to a boil, he just fucking stops.

“Why’d you stop?!” your voice was rather whiny, “What the fuck?!”

“Oh my God,” Ashton chuckles at your desperate verbiage, watching your pussy twitch inches away from his face, “You are such a brat. I stopped for like, two seconds.”

“You fucker! I was so cl—”

Before you could even finish your thought, Ashton is dipping back into you roughly. He swiftly unhooks one of his arms from your shaky thigh and slips a finger inside of you, working it in tandem with his tongue to cross you over the finish line.

You yelp, his actions catching you by surprise. As punishment for letting you think he’d edged you, you reach down and dig your nails into his shoulders. Faint red lines start to appear across his tanned skin and his body tenses up, back muscles flaring angrily.

A smile spreads across your face while your eyes roll back into your head, Ashton working circles around your clit with his tongue while fucking into you with not one, but two fingers. He was determined to make you cum, even if your sharp, baby blue nails were leaving cat scratches across his shoulder blades.

“—Ashton, fuck!”

One last shout of his name for good measure had you hurling over the edge. Right as your orgasm is in full throttle, those dreamy jade eyes pop up to meet yours. You make it a point to stare back into them, giving him a show with your pouty, swollen lips and flushed cheeks.

“Oh my god, holy shit— what the fuck,” you sigh. Both Ashton’s fingers and tongue had come to a slowdown, riding you through your high like he was on your back with a saddle. You giggle at the blissful feeling, letting it be known that you were grateful for the attention he had paid to you with a pat to his now sweaty forehead.

“Where the hell did you learn how to do all of that?”

Ashton finally lifts his head up with a smile, still gently caressing your thigh with that calloused hand of his as his face drips with your arousal.

“A magazine.”

“I think that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had in my fucking life.”

As shameful as it was to admit such a thing, Ashton didn’t seem to mind the compliment. You watched in real time as his cheeks turned rosy, not long before he shook his head to brush you off.

“That means whoever you’re sleeping with must really fuckin’ suck,” he comments, shrugging as if it were nothing.

“Hey,” you defend, “it’s not my fault they suck.”

Although this conversation was bringing you back down to earth in some aspects, every other piece of it felt so damn domestic. Romantic. Comfortable. You were able to run your fingers through his hair and push the rogue curls out of his eyes without fear of judgment.

“It kind of is, bubs,” Ashton was now making his way out from between your legs to join you back at the top of the mattress, “You’ve picked some real winners.”

His tone oozes sarcasm but that post-orgasm headspace made anything that left his mouth attractive to you. You giggle softly, dismissing him with your hand as you watch him get comfortable and prop his head up on his arm.

“Oh my God, remember that one guy with the fucking digeredoo? I’m sure he was just— phenomenal in bed.”

“Okay well, playing an instrument takes a lot of skill. Plus, he was hot and bought me a milkshake after the bar. How could I say no?”

You and Ashton were now side by side once again, his eyes raking across your body and sneaking glances down at your wet lips as you spoke. “If that’s all it takes to win you over, maybe instead of laying here next to you I should be out waiting in line for a milkshake.”

“Fuck a milkshake,” you scoff, turning yourself to face him and mirroring his position, “I could lay here all night.”

“Really?” Ashton’s eyes light up. You didn’t think you’d find that endearing but then again, here you are, lying next to him after he’d just whipped you through space and time.

“Yeah. I mean, what else is there to do?”

“I could think of a few things,” he trails off, glancing you up and down, “Round one barely even started. Just sayin’.”

You bite your lip while gazing at him through hooded bedroom eyes. He now seemed to be mesmerized by the small bit of mascara that had begun running down the side of your cheek, stuck on the little black streaks before he took his thumb, licked it, and tried to wipe them off.

“Ash, ew,” you pull away, “Why’d you do that?”

“Oh please grow up, my head was just between your fuckin’ legs.”

“Fair point,” you puff, face still scrunched at him before you flop onto your back with a sigh.

There’s a brief pause between the two of you as you stare up at Ashton’s ceiling fan. He stayed still by your side, taking his index finger and tracing small shapes on your shoulder.

“Damn, was it really that good? Like, ‘stare at my ceiling fan and ponder your life’ good?”

You glance over at his big, needy eyes. His face still flushed with sweat but his gaze telling you more than he ever could. “What’s wrong with pondering life? You wanna go again?” you ask, knowing the answer already.

“Well, yeah. That sure as hell beats staring at the ceiling. But only if you’re up for it. ‘Wouldn’t wanna kick you while you’re already down, y’know?”

“Why are you treating us hooking up like a sporting event?” you chuckle, capturing his hand in yours and rubbing circles across his knuckles.

“It kind of is one except we’re like— playing on the same team… and we both win every game.”

He glances down at your hand with a smile and all you could do was laugh at him through your nose, “You’re fucking stupid.”

“Mmmm, I know.”

In no time, your lips are back on his and he’s pulling you into his chest. The cool metal of his necklace pendant brushes between your breasts and reminds you of what started this whole endeavor. His hands roam your body, every single dip and curve until the only thing he could reach for was something he was already familiar with. You smiled into his mouth, simply because you could.

“Your lips are like sugar,” Ashton grumbles, his words knocking into your teeth as he brushes a lock of your hair out of your face.

“Thanks. Cherry chapstick.”

Ashton’s lips are eager, the kiss is red hot; you’re so ready to experience him fully and that excitement is proven by the quickness of you knocking him onto his back and sliding over to mount his lap.

“I think I like you better from this angle,” Ashton coos, running his hands down the tops of your thighs while you’re straddling his hips.

“What, like I don’t look good from every angle?” you tease back, feeling more confident in your prowess and sexual nature.

“Something about you on top of me— holy shit. If I could take a picture of you right now all fucked out n’ messy…. I’d get it framed and hang it right above the fuckin’ mantle.”

“You’re not too bad yourself, Fletch,” you run your finger down his chest and make the conscious effort to grind your hips down into his groin, “Sex looks amazing on you.”

“You’re such a little minx,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes, “it’s almost painful to look at you right now.”

“Should I take that as a compliment?”

You couldn’t pull your eyes away from Ashton’s plump lips. God they were just so— inviting. If it were socially acceptable to skip the whole sex part and stare at him all night until the sun came up, you absolutely would.

Not that there were any methods to Ashton’s madness, but after hearing him speak so highly about how he performs in bed, you kind of wanted to find out more for yourself.

“Sure, why not. Y/N, you make my dick hurt. Take that how you will.”

“I’m honored, actually. Thank you Ashton.”

Your voice is sultry, pulling your words like soft taffy and making sure they sounded just as sweet. You wanted him to get a taste of this more demure side of you, and also make sure that he never forgets it.

Not many more words are exchanged before you’re dipping down to kiss the center of his chest. Right next to the necklaces that had you tongue tied out on the balcony. He groaned at the action, hands traversing up your thighs and towards your ass to give it a tight, reassuring squeeze.

A few more kisses down the line lead you to the top of his naval. You planted another feathery kiss right above it, for good luck, and shivered as his hands moved with you down his body.

“Oh, I know exactly where you’re headed, bubs. You think you’re slick,” Ashton tries to hide the pillowy shades of pink that fell against his cheeks when your teeth grazed the band of his boxers. But all you could do at that moment was smile.

“M’ not doing anything wrong, am I?” you ask, eyes wide and doe-like as you slip a finger beneath the fabric to tease at his happy trail.

“No no, nothing wrong…” His words trail off, getting lost somewhere in the room. He tosses his head back and you watch those caramel curls just flop against the pillow.

Truth be told, you were intimidated by Ashton. But only in the moment where he’d taken off his jeans and was left in his underwear. You stared down at the sizable bulge, eyes still wide, wondering what was hidden beneath that red and black checked plaid.

You take a moment to let him adjust to your new position, and run a gentle hand across where the fabric hilled. He was hard, really fucking hard. Almost twitching out of the slit in his boxers.

“Ahh, shit—” Ashton hisses at the contact.

“Sensitive?”

“You could say that, yeah.”

When you take his length out fully, you stare at it for a moment. Gazing down at its size and realizing now that all the sounds you’ve heard through the drywall of your neighboring rooms may not have been an exaggeration.

“Holy shit—” you catch your tongue, biting back a smile as you take him in a fistful.

“What?”

“You’re really fucking big.”

The corners of Ashton’s mouth tug up into a catty smile, his tongue jutting out to wet his bottom lip before letting out a satisfied sigh.

“Say that again for me, please—?”

“Don’t test your luck, Fletch.”

After taking a moment to find your confidence back, you slowly ease his leaky tip into your mouth. Ashton hums on contact, body tensing and muscles contorting beneath you as you start a slow rhythm of bobbing your head up and down.

“Fuck,” he whines, brushing the hair that had fallen rogue out of your face, “Look at me. Please— fuckin’ look at me.”

Your attention snaps to his desperate plea and you find his face through your messy hair. His lips were parted, forming a perfect, angelic expression that looked like he was floating on a cloud. When the eye contact meets, those O shaped lips melt into a smile.

“Yeah, just like that,” he praises, watching you take his cock fully down your throat and bat your eyelashes as if it were no big deal, “Keep goin’, keep goin’— God you are just perfect, aren’t you?”

Something about Ashton’s merciful compliments made your core throb even more so than when his head was nestled between your thighs. You loved the way those pretty praises sounded rolling off his tongue, and were now just as eager to hear what else he wanted to say.

“Can y’ take it all?” He asks, knowing damn well you were too occupied to reply.

The only sound you could muster was a weak ‘mmmhf’, before you’re ducking your head down completely to the point where the tip of his cock was knocking into the back of your throat. He moans, you moan; it’s a cadence of obscenities. “Oh my God, Y/N. Hooooly shit—”

You keep your head down for as long as you could take it, swirling your tongue around his length and drawing yourself back up to his tip.

“Ahhh, shit— I can’t— No. Come up here. Come up here right fuckin’ now.”

Ashton grabs your head, gently yet effectively pulling your mouth off of his cock. A trail of saliva follows your lips, your face now burning up as you wince at the lack of him filling your throat.

“I need to fuck you,” Ashton continues, his mind working faster than his body at pulling you up to be level with his face again and getting you straddled onto his waist.

“God, please do— I don’t think I could’ve waited much longer.” You admit, with not a single lick of shame, knocking your sweaty foreheads together as he blindly reaches over at his side into his nightstand.

“You like that, huh? You like it fast n’ rough? I knew it, I knew you did—”

“We’re a lot more alike than you think, Ash,” you breathe out, interrupting your own thought to press a rushed kiss onto his cheek, “You just gotta start paying more attention.”

Eventually, Ashton finds a condom in his drawer and slams it shut with his elbow. He holds the packet between your hurried faces, taking the corner of it to his teeth and ripping it open in one motion.

“I didn’t even have to ask,” you bellow, giggling softly as he hands the condom to you to do the honors, “What a gentleman.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes and watches you move down to place the condom where it needed to be, “I’m a gentleman regardless of circumstance.”

After successfully getting the condom onto him, Ashton was back on cloud nine. His face came to a pinch when you lent him a few warm up strokes and shifted back to line him up with your entrance.

“You are so goddamn sexy, Y/N,” he mumbles, gazing at you with hungry eyes.

“Really? Tell me again.”

As he opens his mouth to follow your instruction, you sink down onto his cock without warning. A gasp chokes at your larynx as the feeling of him filling you up fogs your senses.

“Ohhh, oh my—”

You’re grasping at straws to say something, slowly swiveling your hips and feeling his length twitch inside of you like the missing piece of a puzzle. Ashton’s hands fly to your hips and stay there, squeezing you tightly enough to leave bruises in the place of his fingertips.

Your motions start off slow, the two of you in momentary shock at the overwhelming sensation; but Ashton doesn’t stay still for very long. He wants to know what you look like when you ride him, how those tits he’s always catching himself staring at bounce as you sway to the rhythm that he claims.

He snaps his hips up into you for the first time, which makes you cry out, a bit louder than anticipated. On instinct, you cover your mouth with your hand to muffle the noise. But Ashton wasn’t having that either.

“Scream for me, baby. I know you want to,” he muses, through bated breaths as his snapping hips become relentless, “Scream my fucking name.”

Although Ashton referring to you as ‘baby’ caught you a little off guard, you could do nothing else but oblige to his request. You whine, you grunt, you moan, calling out and watching it echo and bounce across Ashton’s off white walls until the only sound left in the room was his name.

“Atta’ girl, yeah. You fuckin’ like that? Yeah you do. Look at’ ya’.”

“Ashton, oh my God. Fuck me— harder.”

Your command makes his grip on your hips tighten, “Harder?”

“For the love of God, yes. Fuck me harder!”

The sounds of slapping skin and Ashton’s shaky old headboard banging against the walls seemed to drown out any more of those obscene noises; but your senses were heightened enough to the point where you could hear them all loud and clear. You toss your head back, hair wild and unkempt as the two of you find the perfectly rough rhythm of your hips.

“Ashton, holy shit—”

“Yeah baby, yeah, that’s it— cum for me again. Fuckin’, shit—”

Ashton’s greedy hands fly right up to your chest. He takes your breasts in a handful as you ride him, allowing you to ride yourself all the way through your second and final orgasm of the evening.

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips as you watch his release, in almost perfect unison with yours. His cock twitches inside of you once more and leaves you feeling sensitive, a bit worn out. But you didn’t care about the fact that you’d felt like you’d just run a marathon.

All that mattered was that you felt closer to Ashton than ever.

“Jesus Christ, Ash,” you moan out, dropping your hands to his chest as you lift yourself off of his cock.

“Mmmf—” he winces at the loss of your pussy clenched around him, his next words a bit strained, “it’s a good thing we don’t have any more roommates. You’re like a fuckin’ tornado siren.”

And there was the Ashton you knew and loved; back with a witty comment to top off the evening of multiple orgasms and your new discovery of a praise kink.

“Charming, Ash. Real’ fuckin’ charming.”

Giggles and more banter filled the space around you as Ashton offered to get you cleaned up. He ran through the apartment, naked, collecting up the necessary ingredients for the perfect aftercare session and making sure you had everything you needed to feel comfortable in the aftermath.

“Think you’ll be able to walk right tomorrow?” Ashton chuckles, his knee dipping down into the mattress as he hands you a glass of water.

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Well, to answer that question, I’ll be fine. Someone’s gotta carry you around if your legs don’t work, right?”

You laugh at him, swatting his bare shoulder and taking a sip of that ice cold water.

The rest of the hour was pure, unadulterated bliss. You hadn’t even bothered to check the clock whilst Ashton cleaned you up with a warm washcloth and basically dressed you in your sleep shirt and pajama shorts. You were just happy to know that he was willing to take care of you, whether it be as a friend, or a hookup for the night.

The two of you laid side by side in bed, talking about life, in a philosophical and stupid sense; basically anything and everything before his head plopped down onto the pillows like it were made of bricks.

“Ugh, now I’m bored,” he whines, fighting a smile as he gazes into your wide eyes. Ashton was always one for a callback, but this one seemed oddly intentional.

You look back at him with challenge, running your fingers through his loose curls and dragging your index finger across his sharp cheekbone “You know what you should do?”

“What?”

“You should go get me that milkshake.”

⊹ ₊ ⟡ ⋆

[calumsbiceps]

[orangeinecstasy]

bf calum thoughts ⋆ฺ｡*:･

an: couldn't get calum out of my head today sooo enjoy this blurb list!

nsfw part two

SO MUCH PHYSICAL TOUCH!!! he just wants to be as close as possible to you 24/7. whether that's holding your hand or having his arm around your waist, he just wants to be there in that moment with you

always keeps your favorite snacks and drinks in his house, not because he wants to boast about how he noticed that you like, but because he wants to

late night drives for no reason with the top down. no talking just music blasting and the comfort of you being with him

BEACH AND PARK DAYS!!!!

slow late mornings where you guys stay in bed just to stay tangled up together

his camera roll is full of pictures of you and him together, or just you tbh

sends you pictures of things that remind him of you when he's on tour

has a running list of all your favorite things from anywhere to snacks to your favorite perfume he knows

constantly getting you to listen to the bass lines or lyrics he's written to get you opinions on them

movie nights with the two of you and duke cuddled up on the couch

so many pet names. i know for a fact that babe and baby our two of his favs

back to the picture point -- sooo many of you in his clothes. could be his hoodie, or his shirt, does matter he loves it

i could honestly go on. let me know if you guys would want ones with the other 5sos guys orrrr maybe a nsfw version 🤭

[ughkat]

ur camera roll if ashton was ur boyfriend ❥

[sinning5sos]

masterlist ;)

Smut: 

Ashton: Ashton x Reader

Corrupt -> here

Freedom -> here

Punishment -> here

Too Hot -> here

Youngblood -> here

Unknown (story) | masterlist

Calum: Calum x Reader

Beautiful to Me -> here

Close -> here

Cocky -> here

Coworkers -> part one | part two

Club -> part one

Kinky -> here

Office Slut -> here

Roommates -> part one

Luke: Luke x Reader

Good Enough -> here

Golden Boy -> here

No Shame -> here

Worship -> here

Valentine -> here

#96 -> here

Michael: Michael x Reader

Afterglow -> here

Twitch -> here

Threesomes:

Cake: Luke x Calum x Reader

Have It Your Way -> here

Pool Part -> here

Choked (Have It Your Way 2) -> here

Lashton: Luke x Ashton x Reader

Be a Good Girl For Us -> here

Cashton: Calum x Ashton x Reader

Hot Tub -> here

Malum: Michael x Calum

Dare or Dare -> here

One Way or Another -> here

Fluff/Angst:

Ashton:

model -> here

moments | https://sinning5sos.tumblr.com/post/181472576794/moments-ashton

dating Ash would include -> part one

best years | part one

Calum:

back again | part one

best friends | part one

talk to me -> here

moments | part one

dating Calum would include -> part one

Luke:

Christmas gift -> here

piano lessons -> here

dating Luke would include -> part one

ghost of you -> here

stay -> here

Michael:

angst -> here

decisions -> here

dating Michael would include -> part one

Blurbs:

Calum:

surprise

lazy Saturday morning

thanksgiving

riding him

wedding blurb

punishment

father-to-be -> here

daddy Calum + stepmom

Ashton:

sugar baby -> part one

father-to-be -> here

birthday

how he knew -> here

possessive

Luke:

netflix & chill

teasing you

travel

attention

Christmas proposal

stand still

blowjob

boyfriend

fingers

father-to-be -> here

Michael:

father-to-be -> here

[prplocks]

5 seconds of summer lockscreens please

<3

[youngxcalm]

i love

[valentiyne]

𝖫𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 ☆ 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗎𝗆 𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽

Dark!Calum Hood x Fem!Reader Summary: Requested! He doesn't usually get his hands dirty, but no one messes with you. Warnings: Swearing & light bar fight violence Word Count: little under 1.2k (not proofread) Copyright © 2024 Valentiyne. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

He's here, for the third time this week.

He sits at the bar, fifth seat down from the first, closest to me. I never got his name the first time he came in, and he never got mine.

He stares up at the television on the wall above the liquor, pretending to be amused by the re-run of a random ball game.

"Your usual?" I ask him, turning to face him.

He raises his head to look at me, his brown eyes burning into my soul as he cracks the first smile of the night.

"Yeah, you know me so well sugar"

Whiskey on the rocks, two sugar cubes, and a bowl of today's soup - three crackers. I've grown used to him. Every few days for the past four months he'd come into the bar and sit there in silence until my shift was up. My coworkers joked he was my personal bodyguard.

Today was no different, I was alone at the bar tonight since it was close to closing time. Aside from my stranger, there was a small group of guys in the corner on their seventh round. I knew I'd have to cut them off after this one, but to avoid confrontation I'm waiting until I'm done cleaning.

I hand the stranger his bowl of soup and whiskey, my eyes wandering back over to the gentlemen who now were making a ruckus.

"You're forgetting something" His voice is low and I snap my attention to him quickly, glancing over the bar top. "Oh! right"

I slide three sugar cubes over to him, smiling slightly before looking back up at the corner of the bar. The men were silent now, looking over at me with annoyed eyes.

"Hello? Can we get another round?"

I blink a few times, leaning forward to block his whiskey from their view, "Oh...I'm sorry, the bar is..erm It's closed now and I can't serve you anymore..." The men groan loudly, slamming their hands on the tables before standing up quickly. My stomach lurches and I avoid my gaze.

From the corner of my eye, I see something flying toward me and I duck down just in time for a duke glass to shatter on the mirrored wall behind me. I turn quickly and watch the guys begin to laugh hysterically.

The stranger's head snaps up now, eyeing them from the now-cracked mirror behind the liquor. My breath hitches and he stands now, finishing his whiskey and turning towards the men,

He slams the glass down on the bartop and storms towards the men, his fists clenched. "That's enough!" he exclaims, his voice loud enough to be heard over theirs. "This is a fucking bar, not a playground. You need to get the hell out and let the poor lady clean"

The men begin to chuckle, looking among themselves before the stranger's fist connects to the closest man's cheek. The drunkard staggers back, losing his balance due to the impact. He falls flat on his back, landing hard on the sticky bar floor. The other drunks are too shocked to do anything but stare, their mouths agape and their bottles of beer still in their hands.

As the stranger looms over the fallen man, his fists clenched and his face twisted into a snarl, the man on the floor looks up at him with fear in his eyes. The stranger's eyes burn with anger, but he doesn't move - he just stares down at the fallen man, his whole body tense with rage.

The bar has gone completely silent. No one moves or speaks, not even I. The only sound is the drunken breathing and slurred words of the fallen man on the floor. After a few moments of silence, the drunk men scurry out of my bar and down the street, screaming nonsense.

I went to thank the stranger, but to my surprise, he was already leaving.

Just as suddenly as he appeared, the stranger turned and left as quickly as he came, disappearing into the alleyway. I quickly followed after, locking the back door with my lanyard and rushing the direction he was headed.

"Hey!!"

I run down a dimly lit alleyway, chasing after the stranger, determined to catch up to him. I can hear the soft pitter-patter of his footsteps echoing off the walls, and I rush to match them as quickly as I can. I finally spot him a few feet ahead, a cigarette between his lips as he walks cooly.

"Wait up" I jog a bit faster, catching up to him and placing my hand on his forearm to stop him. He begins to slow, turning to face me with a smile. He takes a long drag on his cigarette before flicking it, the orange ember lighting up the darkness for just a moment. He looks at me for a long moment, his smile growing bigger as he notices my hand on his forearm.

"Sugar"

I rub my arm sheepishly, looking around the dark alleyway we stood in, "You didn't need to do that, I would've been fine"

He scoffs, putting the cigarette back between his lips, "You gave me three sugar cubes instead of two- it was bothering you"

He leans down to look closer at my face, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks me up and down. His eyes are sharp and piercing, like a hawk analyzing its prey. He takes another drag on his cigarette, the smoke puffing out his nose with each breath.

"What's your game, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice low and husky. "Why are you really here?"

I laugh now, shaking my head and rubbing my forehead with the palms of my hands. He was right, never once did I mess up his lasting order.

"I'm Y/n"

He nods, looking me up and down, "I don't do the whole relationship shit"

"Who said I wanted anything? I just want to know who has been sitting in my bar" I cross my arms, stating matter of factly.

He smiles slightly, flicking the amber from the cigarette, "Calum"

We stare at each other for a few moments, letting the cold air and smoke dance around us before he speaks. "I believe you owe me another drink"

I crack a smile, nudging him softly, "The bar is actually closed.. maybe tomorrow night?"

"Good thing I have whiskey at my place."

[passthe5sos]

bringing 5sos back to life considering the fact they won’t (your welcome!)

MASTERLIST

CalumThomasHood:

nothing yet…

AshtonFletcherIrwin

best friends brother: coming soon!

LukeRobertHemmings

“Try Hard”

MichaelGordonClifford

nothing yet…

“Hi, we’re 5 Seconds of Summer!”

my 5SOS favs:

A B O U T M E:

Other accounts: @nosebleedsturn @winchestermysterymachine @lokistemptress

One Direction Masterlist

[kaleidoscopecth]

Why Won’t You Love Me?

MDNI

paring: calum hood x reader

summary: your life is falling apart, and in a desperate attempt to find some semblance of comfort in your chaotic world, you end up at the doorstep of one of your best friends.

warnings: mentions of a toxic relationship with luke, mentions of substance abuse, mentions of rehab, weed usage, safe sex teehee, oral (f receiving), fluffy desperate sex, whimpery calum, slight body worship, angst for days, unrequited love

word count: 5.7k

title: why won’t you love me by 5 seconds of summer

a/n: this story is really nothing like the ones i have up before truthfully, it’s because it wasn’t meant to be published. i wrote this based on some of my own struggles, but i kinda love how it turned out. quick disclaimer, although i use peoples names in this fic, it’s not a reflection of who i think they are as people. this is all in good fun, not meant to be a serious attack on anybody’s character. anyways, enjoy.

as always, thank u to north for editing this ur the best 🫶

Copyright © 2024 kaleidoscopecth. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You weren’t entirely sure why you had ended up at Calum’s doorstep. Your cheeks burned, chest tight with emotion as you hesitated, then rang the doorbell.

You had run circles around the idea in your head, knowing how complicated it would be to show up here. Calum was Luke’s best friend, his bandmate, and the last person you should’ve turned to. But the weight of everything—the withdrawal, the breakup, the utter mess your life had become—pushed you forward, even as doubt clawed at your resolve.

Would he even want to see you? Would he resent you for the way you ended things with Luke? You had wrestled with those questions all day, replaying every bitter moment of the breakup. You hadn’t meant to be so cruel. It wasn’t your intention to cut so deeply, but the withdrawal had stripped you of any semblance of patience or clarity.

And then, as soon as you were discharged from the hospital, you had gone running back to Luke. Desperate, aching, hoping to salvage what was left.

But then you saw them.

The door opened before you could spiral any further. Calum stood there, his brown eyes scanning you with a mixture of concern and surprise. “Y/N?” he asked, a small, tentative smile tugging at his lips. “You’re still here?”

His smile brought you a fleeting sense of relief, though you had braced herself for rejection. After all, if Luke could hate you, why wouldn’t Calum? Your mind replayed the raw memory of Luke’s anger when you begged for his forgiveness. The sting of seeing him move on so quickly still lingered in your chest.

It had only been two weeks since your overdose, yet he was already in bed with someone else—Sierra, of all people. You had known from the moment her name flashed on his notifications that her intentions weren’t pure. And you’d been right.

“I’m leaving for rehab soon,” you said softly, your voice cracking. “And I don’t want to be alone on my last night.”

Calum’s expression darkened, his sadness unmistakable. Without hesitation, he reached out, taking your hand and pulling you inside.

You had managed to keep things normal between you after you had drunkenly hooked up last year, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed the subtle shift. Calum’s gaze lingered too long whenever you were with Luke, his quiet, intense eyes studying you two with something unspoken and unreadable.

“Wanna go out to the terrace?” Calum asked, his voice soft, a faint smile on his lips.

You nodded, taking his hand as you stepped outside into the cool night air. The breeze was crisp, refreshing, and you relished it as a small reprieve from everything weighing you down.

You curled up on one of the couches, pulling your legs to your chest and resting your chin on your knees. Calum slipped back inside for a moment, returning with a rolling tray and a grinder in hand. You laughed lightly.

“I’m supposed to be sober, you know,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“From oxy,” he countered, smirking as he sat down across from you. “Isn’t there a thing called ‘California sober’ or whatever?”

You laughed again, shaking your head. “Shut up and roll the joint.”

Calum grinned and got to work, expertly grinding the weed and rolling a joint with practiced ease. He lit the end, taking a long, slow drag before passing it to you. You mirrored his action, inhaling deeply—too deeply—until you erupted into a coughing fit.

“At least I’ll get a decent high,” you wheezed, shaking your head with a small, rueful grin.

“So, rehab,” Calum said, his tone light but tinged with something else—sadness, maybe, or hesitation. His eyes followed yours, searching, as if trying to grasp what wasn’t being said.

You exhaled a plume of smoke, watching it dissolve into the night. “God, don’t remind me,” you muttered, taking another hit before leaning back against the cushions. “Some facility in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, Nebraska. Flight leaves tomorrow.”

The air grew heavy between you, filled with the distant sounds of the city below. You glanced over to find Calum watching you, his brows slightly furrowed.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he said finally, his voice quiet, a casual shrug betraying the weight of his words. “But I guess I’ll see you after?”

Your chest tightened, the lump in your throat rising before you could stop it. You turned to look at him, your voice quieter than you intended.

“Cal,” you began, hesitating for a moment. “I’m moving to London when I get out.”

The words hung heavy in the cool air, their weight settling between you. Calum’s faint smile faded entirely, his expression faltering as your statement sank in.

There was enough space between you that no part of you touched, and for some reason, you hated that.

“You’re leaving?” he asked quietly, his gaze dropping to his shoes. “For good?”

You shook your head, your voice soft. “I’ll be back for filming and work stuff, but I won’t be living in L.A. anymore. I can’t.”

“Because of Luke and Sierra?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You flinched at the name, your stomach twisting with shame and anger. Every mention of Sierra made you feel small, like a fool for ever trusting Luke.

Luke had lied about everything—about seeing Arzaylea before coming to your apartment and claiming to be in love with you, about Sierra, about all of it. If you hadn’t stumbled into his apartment and seen the truth for yourself, you might have still been in the dark.

“Sure,” you sighed, brushing the thought aside. “And my family will be closer. They want to help me stay sober.”

“I could help you.” Calum’s voice was firm, his gaze locked on yours, determined.

Your heart skipped at his words, and unbidden memories of your moments together flashed in your mind—the way you’d gone from indifference to friendship, to that one night that had blurred every line. He’d insisted it remain a one-time thing, but that never stopped him from touching your shoulder softly, or smiling at you like you were the only thing that made the world spin right.

“Cal… no,” you sighed, shaking your head. “I can’t expect that of you.”

A beat of silence passed, heavy and fraught. Then, barely audible, he said, “I’m in love with you.”

You didn’t flinch. You weren't surprised, not really. A sad smile tugged at your lips as you exhaled. “I know,” you murmured. “But this—” you gestured between the two of you, your voice faltering. “How could this ever work?”

He shrugged, frustration simmering beneath the surface. “Luke started screwing Sierra despite the fact that she and Ashton had a thing before. It’s not like this would be new territory for us.”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “But it’s new for me.”

“So this is it, then? Our goodbye?” Calum’s voice cracked, anger and defeat mingling as his broad shoulders slumped.

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest. You wanted to reach for him, to hold him, but your hands stayed firmly at your sides. A fleeting, reckless thought bloomed in the back of your mind—a glimpse of a life where you could stay, where you could fall asleep next to the boy with warm brown eyes and wake up to him every morning, never feeling the ache of leaving again.

Your throat tightened, the words heavy on your tongue. “I can’t say I love you,” you whispered, your voice breaking under the weight of your truth. “But, God, I wish I could.”

The air between you thickened with unspoken longing, a current of electricity passing between your gazes. Calum’s brows furrowed as he took a hesitant step closer, his eyes glimmering with equal parts hurt and hope. “Why not?” he asked softly, his voice trembling.

“Because it’s Luke,” you said, shaking your head. Your voice cracked under the weight of your confession. “You have no idea how badly I wish it could be you. That I could have you in my head every second of every day instead of him. You’ve never hurt me. You love me wholly. You’d never put that love at risk.”

“Then let me be the one in your head,” he pleaded, his voice low and desperate. “Just for tonight.”

Your breath hitched as his words settled in your chest. You looked at him, your heart hammering against your ribs. He was leaning toward you now, his eyes searching yours, desperate.

“Is that really what you want?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

“Please, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Let me say goodbye the way I want to.”

Your mouth went dry, and you weren't sure if it was from the weed or the way Calum was looking at you. The idea—the possibility—was strangely appealing.

“Okay,” you breathed.

Slowly, you moved toward him, swinging one leg over his lap to straddle him. You stared at each other for a heartbeat, your hands gently cupping his cold cheeks.

He leaned in first, his eyes fluttering shut as his lips brushed yours, soft and tentative.

The second you registered the kiss, all of your composure unraveled. You sighed against his lips, threading your fingers into his curly hair as the kiss deepened with a fervor that surprised you. His hands slid down to your waist, gripping you firmly as he pulled you closer.

Without breaking the kiss, Calum stood, lifting you effortlessly as if you weighed nothing. His hands gripped your waist tightly, holding you as though you were the only thing grounding him.

He carried you inside with steady determination, the world around you blurring into insignificance. When you finally reached his room, Calum kicked the door shut behind you. The soft rattle set off Duke, who began barking incessantly from somewhere down the hall.

You couldn't help but laugh against his lips, the sound breaking the tension for a moment. Calum pulled back slightly after setting you down in the bed, chuckling as well.

“Duke, calm down,” he called out, his voice amused but firm. Then, turning back to you, a playful smile tugged at his lips. “He always acts up when he knows there's something I want.”

“And what is it that you want?” you whispered, your voice low and teasing as your hands slipped beneath his shirt, your fingers trailing along the hard ridges of his stomach.

Calum's response came in the form of another kiss, deeper and more urgent this time. “You,” he murmured against your lips.

The kiss intensified, your lips moving with a quiet desperation that made your heart race and your stomach flutter. Calum's hands roamed your sides with deliberate care, as if he were memorizing the feel of you.

You matched his fervor, your hands trembling as you tugged at his shirt. This felt different—more intense, more intimate—than the last time. There hadn���t been much hesitation then, just two people driven by pure need, but now, you could feel a semblance of giddy awkwardness in the air.

Calum pulled back just enough to shrug off his shirt, the fabric falling carelessly to the floor. His hands immediately found your face, cupping your cheeks as he brought your lips back to his.

Your hands moved across his bare skin, tracing the curve of his muscles, the lines of his tattoos— a detail you had committed to memory. You tugged him down with you, but he stopped, pulling away slightly with a small smirk.

“Nuh-uh,” he teased, his lips brushing yours. “Your shirt's coming off too, Y/N.”

“Then take it off,” you challenged, your voice breathless and filled with need. “Take everything off. I need you.”

Calum's eyes darkened, his expression shifting from playful to serious in an instant. His hands found the hem of your shirt, and with one swift motion, he pulled it over your head, tossing it aside. One hand cupped the back of your neck, holding you close as his lips claimed yours again.

The other hand moved skillfully to the clasp of your bra, undoing it with ease. The garment slipped away, leaving you bare beneath his touch. Calum's lips moved to your neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your skin, his hands sliding down your back and pulling you closer.

His mouth trailed down to your collarbone, grazing the delicate skin with soft nips that made you gasp. Slowly, his lips descended to your chest, capturing your nipple in his mouth with a deliberate tenderness. You let out a quiet moan, your hands tangling in Calum's hair as your eyelids fluttered shut, your breath hitching at the sensation.

“You're so fucking beautiful,” Calum groaned against your skin, his voice filled with awe and desire. His eyes lifted to meet yours, darkened with longing, his pupils blown wide. Slowly, he kissed his way back up to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss there before nudging his nose against yours in an intimate gesture that made your chest ache.

But then it hit you—a sudden wave of guilt crashing over you, sharp and cold. What were you doing? Were you just using him? Using his kindness, his patience, and the way he cared about you, all because you didn't want to feel alone? Your body tensed, and you froze, pushing him away slightly.

Calum immediately pulled back, concern flooding his features as his hands cupped your face. “What is it?” he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Are you okay?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, your eyes darting across his face, searching for something—anything—that might tell you he wasn't as sure about this as he claimed. “Are you sure you want to do this?” you asked hesitantly. “I mean, I can't—I can't give you what you want, Cal. I won't even be here most of the time, and—”

“Y/N,” he interrupted, his voice steady but tinged with urgency. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. “Stop. I want this. I want you.”

Your heart clenched, but you still hesitated, guilt and uncertainty gnawing at you. “Cal, I—”

“Please,” he whispered, his voice dropping to something raw and vulnerable. “Let me have this. Let me have tonight. Just... just let me. Let me give you a proper goodbye. Let me give us a proper goodbye.”

His words hung between you, heavy with longing and unspoken emotion. Your breath hitched, your resolve faltering as you looked into his eyes. There was no hesitation there, no doubt—only a fierce, aching need for you. “Would you let me?” His lips brushed against yours ever so carefully. “Please let me.”

Wordlessly, you nodded, swallowing down your fears, worries, and the ache in your chest.

Calum's smile was soft yet radiant, a quiet reassurance that melted some of your hesitation. You could feel him smiling against your lips as he kissed you again, and before you realized it, your own lips curved into a matching smile. His hands roamed your body with reverence, each touch gentle and deliberate, as if you were something sacred.

With practiced care, he began unbuttoning your jeans, his lips trailing away from your mouth to press heated kisses down your jawline. He lingered near your earlobe, nipping it lightly, and you let out a small, contented sigh. Your hips rose instinctively, allowing him to tug the denim down your legs in one smooth motion.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice rough with want. “You have no idea how long l've been waiting for this.” His mouth found yours again, urgent and insistent, his hips pressing down against your thigh while his fingers trailed lightly down your chest, making you shiver. His lips wandered back to your breasts, lingering there with soft kisses and teasing bites that made you gasp.

“What do you want, Calum?” you gasped, your hips bucking upward, seeking friction with an urgency that made your voice crack. “Tell me.”

When he lifted his gaze to meet yours, the intensity in his eyes stole your breath. They were dark, glazed over, and filled with raw need. He looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, as though the world could crumble around you and he wouldn't care. “I want to touch you,” he murmured, his voice rough, the words muffled by the kisses he pressed down your sternum.

“Then touch me, baby,” you urged, your fingers threading through the damp curls on his forehead, pushing them back. Your tone was soft, but your words were charged, dripping with encouragement. “Make me feel so good.”

The soft groan that escaped his lips felt almost involuntary, a raw reaction to your words. It sent a shiver through you, straight to your core. His hand slipped beneath your underwear, his fingers finding your clit with precision. He moved in slow, deliberate circles, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

When his fingers dipped lower, teasing your entrance, he froze for a moment, as though savoring the sensation. Feeling how ready you were for him, he let out a deep, guttural groan, the sound vibrating against your skin.

“Oh my God,” he whispered, his voice heavy with awe, every word tinged with disbelief. “You're already so wet. Fuck, Y/N... you're perfect.”

His words sent heat rushing through you, your back arching as your body responded to his touch. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the moan that threatened to spill, but the way he touched you, slow and deliberate yet filled with need, made it impossible.

He didn't wait, slipping a finger inside you with ease, watching your reaction with rapt attention.

You let out a sharp cry, your back arching instinctively as pleasure shot through you. “Oh, fuck,” you gasped, your fingers threading tighter through Calum's hair, holding him close. “Just like that, baby.”

Calum moved with deliberate care, curling his finger inside you, his steady rhythm coaxing soft, breathless moans from your lips.

Every movement seemed calculated to draw you closer to the edge, yet it was laced with tenderness that left you dizzy. The way your body responded to his touch had his lips parting, his breath hitching in admiration as if he couldn't believe what he was witnessing.

“That feels so good,” you sighed, your voice trembling as your nails lightly scraped the nape of his neck. “You're doing so good.”

Your praise sent a shiver through him, and his eyes darkened further, his pupils blown wide with desire. His breath came faster, his hips rutting against you involuntarily as though he needed you even more than you needed him. “You sound so pretty,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with reverence, though there was an edge of desperation to it, almost a whine. “I can’t get enough of you.”

You pulled at his hair, your eyes falling shut in bliss. Calum was working his fingers at a steady pace, moaning as if he too was the one getting off. The fact that he was so worked up by the mere fact that he’d been touching you made a wave of heat rush down your body.

His lips kissed down your torso, leaving no mark of your skin unkissed. “I need to taste you,” he gasped, continuing to inch down your body. He was shaking with anticipation, fingers never faltering. “You’re so wet and so pretty, and it’s all for me. I did that to you.”

You nodded rapidly, another moan falling from your lips. “Need your mouth on me,” Calum’s breath hitched at your words, his kisses down your body growing more sloppy by the second. He didn’t waste any time in pushing your legs open, taking deliberate care to suck at the skin of your hipbone.

You propped yourself on your elbows, watching through half lidded eyes as Calum finally pressed a small kiss to your inner thigh. Already fed up, you let out a frustrated mewl. “Cal, please.”

Calum’s entire body shuddered, and you saw the way his eyes widened momentarily before his mouth latched on to your clit. He let out a moan against you when the taste of you overwhelmed his senses, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes essentially rolled back into his head.

“You’re so dreamy like this,” you gasped, his lips sucking at your sensitive bud enough to make your legs shake around his head. “You make me feel so good— oh, fuck, just like that.”

Calum let out a shaky whine, his hips grinding involuntarily against the mattress as he looked up at you, his wide, awe-filled eyes glistening with unspoken devotion. His movements were uncoordinated, almost frantic, as though he was utterly consumed by you, his tongue lapping and sucking at your clit with an intensity so raw it sent shockwaves through your trembling legs.

“You taste so good,” he panted, his voice unsteady and reverent between his breathless licks. “Your thighs are shaking— fuck, I did that to you. I made you feel like this.”

You bit your lip hard, your eyes squeezing shut as the tidal wave of sensation crashed through you. Every nerve in your body felt alive, strung out on the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you. Calum's hands wandered your torso with a desperation that bordered on worship, gripping your skin tightly, as if grounding himself in the reality of you.

Stars burst behind your eyelids as your body arched into his touch, the sensation cresting to an unbearable peak. The sight of him—his flushed cheeks, his lips glistening with you, his pupils blown wide with adoration—was almost too much. You needed more, needed him closer, needed all of him.

Reaching down, you tangled your fingers gently in his curls, tugging him away from your overstimulated clit. Calum let out a soft, almost pitiful moan of protest, his lips brushing against your skin as though he couldn't bear to let go. Still, he obeyed, letting you guide him back up your body, his warm breath fanning over your skin with each ragged inhale.

Your lips met in a kiss so heated it left you dizzy, your mouths colliding with a fervent need that neither could deny. You could taste yourself on his tongue, a heady reminder of how completely Calum had given himself to you. The realization sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through you, and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer until there was no space left between you.

Calum let out a broken whimper against your lips, his whole body trembling as though he was barely holding himself together. “Y/N,” he choked out, his voice laced with desperation, his breath coming in shallow pants. “I need you. I need all of you. Please. I don't know how much longer I can wait.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and your heart pounded in your chest as you looked into his wide, awe-stricken eyes. His pupils were blown with need, his lips slightly parted as he hovered over you, waiting for permission like his entire world depended on your answer.

“Fuck me,” you breathed, pulling him down into another kiss that was all heat and urgency. “Don't wait anymore. Just fuck me.”

Calum let out a soft, broken sound, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as he nodded, his curls tickling your skin. He kissed the sensitive spot just below your ear, his lips trailing down your neck with a desperation that made your body ache for him even more.

When he sucked hard enough to leave a mark, you arched into him, your hands tangling in his hair, too far gone to care about anything else.

“Y/N,” he gasped, his voice raw and shaking as his hands roamed your body, both frantic and reverent, like he couldn't touch enough of you at once. “You don't understand. I'd do anything for you. Anything. Just say the word.”

Your breath hitched at the sheer devotion in his voice, the weight of his words crashing over you like a wave. You swallowed hard, your hands moving to cradle his face as you met his gaze. “I just need you inside me right now,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside you.

You watched as Calum reached over to his bedside table, pulling out a condom and hardly ripping the packet open with his teeth. Your eyes followed his movements as he rolled the rubber down in his length. Calum let out a shuddering breath, his hands trembling as he positioned himself between your thighs. He hesitated, his gaze flickering up to yours as if silently asking for reassurance. You cupped his face, brushing your thumb over his cheek with a tenderness that made his breath hitch.

“C’mon baby,” you gasped.

With a shaky nod, he sank into you slowly as though he never wanted the moment to end. A whimper escaped Calum’s lips, a sound so deep and guttural that it made you moan. Your nails sank into his back, and Calum’s head fell forward against your shoulder.

Calum was trembling, his breath coming in ragged pants as he pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your shoulder. “You feel so good,” he whispered, his voice tight with strain, barely holding himself together. “I never want this to end.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, the intensity of the moment washing over you as you felt him stretch you in ways that made you gasp.

When he began to move, a sharp hiss escaped your lips, and Calum froze instantly, his entire body going rigid. His head snapped up, wide eyes filled with concern as they searched your face.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft but urgent, laced with worry.

You bit your lip, nodding slowly as you forced yourself to take a steadying breath. “Yeah,” you said, your voice airy, cheeks flushed. “It's just... it's been a while, and... you're kinda big.”

For a moment, there was silence, and then Calum let out a soft, startled laugh. The sound was rich and genuine, shaking his entire body as the tension melted from his face. His amusement was contagious, and soon enough, you found yourself laughing with him, the shared moment easing the intensity between you.

Still smiling, you reached up, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging him closer until his forehead rested gently against yours. Your laughter softened into quiet breaths, your noses brushing as you lingered in the intimacy of the moment.

“You can move,” you whispered, your voice steady now, laced with trust and anticipation.

Calum exhaled deeply, his eyes darkening with emotion as he nodded, pressing a tender kiss to your lips before he began to move again. This time, his movements were slow and deliberate, his focus entirely on you, his body attuned to yours as you fell into a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing.

You cried out his name again, your nails digging into his back as your legs tightened around his waist. Calum's movements grew more purposeful, his hips snapping against yours with a need that was almost overwhelming. His eyes never left your face, drinking in every gasp and moan as if they were the only sounds in the world.

“You're so perfect,” he breathed, his voice cracking with emotion. He leaned down, brushing his lips over yours in a tender kiss that contrasted sharply with the intensity of his thrusts. “I don't know how I can-fuck, you feel so good. So perfect, Y/N.”

Your body arched beneath him when he shifted slightly, thrusting deeper and hitting the spot that made your toes curl. A sharp cry tore from your throat, your body trembling from the intensity. “You're doing so good,” you gasped, your praise deliberate as you ran your hands down his sweat-slicked back. “You fuck me so good, Calum. Just like that, baby.”

Calum let out a broken moan, his head dropping against your shoulder as your words seemed to ignite something in him. His hips moved faster now, each thrust harder than the last, as if he was trying to lose himself entirely in you. His hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit. He hesitated for only a moment before pressing against it, rubbing fast, precise circles that made your breath hitch.

“You're amazing,” he panted, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. His voice was wrecked, thick with desperation and adoration. “I just want to make you feel good. Tell me I'm doing it right. Please.”

You let out a whimper, your body seemingly on fire with the intensity of the pleasure. You tangled your fingers in his curls, muttering unintelligible encouragement under your breath. You looked at him, the way his cheeks were flushed with the exertion and desire, and you gave him a breathless smile. “You’re going so good, Cal,” you moaned. “I’m so close.”

Calum’s movements were erratic and eager, desperate to feel you come undone beneath him. His hips stuttered as he tried to maintain the rhythm that had you falling apart beneath him. He was panting hard, moaning your name in breathless pleas. Your nails raked down his back, only spurring Calum on.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his fingers continuing their assault on your clit that made your legs shake uncontrollably. “Please, I need you to come for me. God, I need to feel you clench around me— please baby, fuck. Come on my cock, I can’t hold on much longer.”

Your breath hitched, eyelids fluttering close as you felt the familiar coil begin to tighten in your belly. Sweat was building up on your skin, but you didn’t mind. “Calum— oh my God, please don’t stop.” The combination of his desperation, his eagerness to make you feel good, and the relentless pace of his hips and fingers sent you over the edge.

You came with a loud cry, your lips shaping Calum’s name, your thighs shaking as another shattered moan escaped you. Your vision blurred, your nails digging into Calum’s back as you clung to him, peppering his shoulder with kisses.

“Oh fuck,” Calum groaned, his voice strained with desperation. “You look so pretty falling apart for me, making all my dreams come true.” His thrusts became erratic and messy as he chased his release, his hands gripping your waist like a lifeline as you clenched around him, pulling him deeper.

“Y/N, I'm gonna—” His sentence broke off into a loud whimper, his face burying into the crook of your neck as he feverishly kissed your damp skin.

“Come for me, baby,” you panted, your voice thick with pleasure as your fingers trailed up and down his back before gripping his biceps for support. “You did so good, made me feel so good. Let go for me.”

His body shuddered violently, his hips slamming into yours one last time as he spilled into the condom with a raw, guttural cry. He whispered your name like a prayer, his voice trembling as aftershocks wracked his body.

Shallow, instinctive thrusts carried him through his orgasm, his movements slowly stilling as the tension drained from him.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of your heavy breathing. Your bodies were pressed together, skin slick with sweat, and the weight of him above you was grounding, comforting in a way neither of you could fully explain.

Calum finally pulled away with a soft sigh, rolling off you carefully. His hands were gentle as he removed the condom, tying it off and tossing it into the trash can by the bed. You watched him through half-lidded eyes, your gaze tracing the sharp contours of his body, the way the moonlight filtered through the window and illuminated his tattoos in a soft, ethereal glow.

You knew Calum was beautiful—you always had, even when he’d been less than kind to you. But now, there was something different about him, something raw and desperate. You wondered how they had gone from mutual animosity to Calum being so deeply in love with you that he would settle for just one night of your pretending.

But were you pretending?

The thought lingered in your mind, heavy and uncertain.

“You're beautiful, you know that?” you murmured, your voice quiet but full of admiration as your eyes lingered on him.

Calum turned to face you, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He climbed back into bed, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. “I’m the lucky one,” he whispered against your hair, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. His thumb traced the curve of your cheekbone and then the outline of your lips as though memorizing every detail. Your eyes stayed locked on his, searching for something you couldn’t quite name.

“Stay,” he mumbled, his voice heavy with exhaustion and something softer—hope. “Your flight leaves tomorrow. Just stay the night. I’ll take you there.”

You frowned, your hand instinctively coming to cover his. You didn’t answer immediately, the weight of his words settling deep in your chest. This night had been one of the best you’d had in a long time, a reprieve from the chaos in your mind. And yet, that knowledge brought an ache you didn’t want to examine too closely.

“Calum…” you hesitated, your voice softer now, almost unsure. “I don’t know if I should.”

His hand tightened gently against yours as he leaned forward, capturing your lips in a kiss so tender it stole the air from your lungs. His palm moved to the back of your neck, his touch reverent, urging you closer. Your bare chests pressed together, his other hand settling at the small of your back, anchoring you to him.

When he pulled away, the weight of reality sank between you. You were leaving—leaving this moment, leaving him—and as terrifying as the thought was, it also carried a bittersweet freedom. Leaving Calum meant leaving behind the pain Luke had caused, a fresh start that felt both liberating and heartbreaking.

“Please,” he whispered against your lips, his voice fragile, each word carrying the weight of his longing. He held his breath, his eyes searching yours for even the smallest trace of hope.

You bit your lip, the turmoil in your chest almost too much to bear. You knew what you should do, but you also knew what you wanted—at least for now.

“I’ll stay,” you finally said, your voice steady despite the storm inside you. “Just for tonight.”

Calum exhaled softly, his forehead dropping to rest against yours as relief washed over his features. For now, it was enough. Just tonight, it could be enough.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

i hope you guys enjoyed, and if you sent in a request just know that i saw it and i’m working on it! there are many writing projects that i’ve been juggling so i’m sorry in advance if it takes a little long for it to be posted <33

[souperbloom]

oh, honey! [A.I.]

roadie!reader x Ashton Irwin

the sequel to the coveted ‘being in love’

a/n: you guys asked, so i delivered. i’m so glad you guys love being-in-love-shton as much as i do. he’ll always have a special place in my heart. huge day for souperbloom nation i can’t believe i finished this.

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut!, angst, very angry reader, semi-public nefarious activities, shit that’ll make your heart race, pet names, fingering (f!receiving), choking, lots n lots of dirty talk, smart mouth ash (as always), lots of inner turmoil but also how could you be mad at that face? once again, i went overboard but how could i not with being in love!ash ????

WORDCOUNT: ~6.7k

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There was no way in hell.

You were surely going crazy. Another month of that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach?

Not a fucking chance.

It was early September now, and tour was in full swing. You had traveled to eight more cities, and yet nothing felt right.

Eight incredible shows, eight smooth rehearsals, eight company meetings— since that one fateful night.

Your mind was in work mode, sure. And your physical being was somewhere in the midwest— but that passion you found in your work, and the love you felt from putting on a show.

It was missing.

Your heart was still in New York.

The clipboard in your lap was barking at you, reading cues and call times, as you flip a pencil between your index and middle finger.

It was so quiet backstage. It always was. Especially before the arrival of the band. You always ended up curled up on a loveseat in one of their dressing rooms, one dressing room in particular, before you were eventually ushered away to start running around like a chicken with it’s head cut off.

"We need road crew on stage."

You took advantage of the moments like these. The measly little moments in which you got to be alone with yourself.

Moments where your mind wasn’t so damn loud.

"Y/N, where are you?"

Your eyes scanned down your perfectly crafted schedule, reading it for the millionth time over and ignoring the crackling call of your name through your headset.

"Y/N, we need you on stage!"

With a huff, you roll your eyes, smacking your pencil down onto the clipboard and using that free hand to push the button down on your headset.

"Fuck, alright! I’m coming, I’m coming!"

The walk down the hallway lined with doors hadn’t felt the same since that night in New York. Something you were usually so comfortable with had turned into a feeling of a racing heart and a spinning head.

You never knew who you’d run into. Who’d be walking down this same corridor at exactly the right moment.

It was all a waiting game.

"There you are! Did you not hear me calling your name forty times?!" Your manager starts yapping the moment you step foot onto the stage, but you just ignore him. Your mind was too preoccupied with that sinking, impending doom.

"I heard it, don’t give me shit. I’ve had a rough day."

You slowly start to make your way across the stage, ducking your head down and trying to ignore the set-up of that pearly green drum kit; the one that liked to taunt you every time you were around it. In fact, his drum kit being the first piece of equipment to be set up on stage felt like some sort of sick joke. Just looking at it made your stomach turn.

Whether the drummer was behind it, or not.

All of the sound equipment was just about perfect in its places when suddenly, you hear a familiar commotion of voices from the opposite side of the stage, towards the outside door.

"Band’s here," your manager deadpans, barely lifting his head up from the clipboard he was writing on.

Those two words sent an unshakable chill down your spine. You knew better than anybody what those two words meant for you, but whether or not you wanted to acknowledge the grip they had on your conscience was something you’d toy with all too often.

"Can somebody go help them unload?" Your manager scans the stage towards the crew, his eyes stopping directly onto yours, "You. Miss “Rough Day”— Go."

He shoos you away with his hand, nose still buried deep into whatever the fuck he was writing down. So, of course, as a good roadie should, you listened. Trying to ignore the intrusive thoughts about inevitably being called that nickname that makes your stomach twist in knots.

Or, about how that nickname sounded in your ears while being fucked against a bathroom counter, only few nights ago.

The silence was louder than anything you’d ever heard, walking down the empty halls to the outside door. You were sure there was some sort of dog whistle that only you could hear, ringing incessantly and telling you that whatever feelings you choked down on that rooftop was just your mind playing tricks on you.

Duh, you never said anything at all. Ashton didn’t know a damn thing.

Unless he was wise enough to piece everything together.

Or maybe, he was a mind reader.

The midwestern sun was scorching, brutal enough to make you feel as though you were getting sunburnt just by walking out into it. There was no sign of a breeze, not a single cloud in the sky. It was a considerably perfect day.

Yeah, a perfect day to lose your fucking mind.

You stepped out into the parking lot, which was already stock full of vans and crew; all of them running around and lugging out bags like the Queen was in town.

You weren’t entirely sure why you were sent out here in the first place. The band’s personal crew seemed to have everything under control, and there was nothing more for you to do besides stand as you were and look pretty.

Surely that’s what he wanted, though, wasn’t it?

"Y/N!"

A familiar voice scares you out of whatever lamppost you were blankly staring into; as precaution to avoid making eye contact with anyone of distaste.

"Oh, hey Luke."

Luke takes long strides towards you, the t-shirt on his back clinging to his slick skin that had already began producing sweat the moment he stepped off the bus. You try your hand at smiling; but you weren’t sure if it read more as an ‘uncomfortable yearbook photo’.

"She’s a scorcher today, isn’t she?" Luke comments, taking the back of his hand to wipe a droplet of sweat off his forehead before adjusting the strap of his guitar case.

You look down at his attire and compare it to yours with a scowl. He was prepped for the weather with thin basketball shorts and the aforementioned t-shirt; yet you opted for your usual uniform. A pair of black jeans and the black CREW tee. You swore you owned a million of these things; in every color of the rainbow.

Not like you paid any mind to the weather channel today. You had other things on your mind.

"The sun? Yeah, tell me about it. It’s fuckin’ brutal out here."

"Yeah... ‘Been out here for like, five minutes and I’m already sweating buckets."

You nod slowly, your eyes sneakily wandering behind Luke’s head as this attempt at small talk was making you more antsy than before. There’s a brief awkward silence that falls between you and the singer; one that was definitely more obvious than you’d thought.

"Well, I don’t mean to distract you. Go do your job, or— whatever. I’ll see you backstage, right?"

"Huh?" Your gaze whips back to meet him, cheeks flushing red, "Oh, yeah. Of course. I’ll see ya’."

Luke flashes you a froggy smile before spinning on his heel to walk away, making you cringe at how mortifying that exchange was.

Your heart wasn’t the only thing stuck on that rooftop in New York. Your charm had ran along right with it.

You couldn’t bear standing out in the sun for any longer; practically cooking like a fried egg in a pan with your entirely black outfit. It was in your best interest to head back inside, and you knew that. But something was keeping your boots nailed to the concrete.

A gut feeling.

The people move around you, but you stay still, occasionally catching their eyes and sparing them a meek smile. There was no sign of that pair of sparkling jade irises that you were hoping for.

Not until the moment you turned around.

"What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here in this hellish heat?"

Almost as if it were some sort of cue, Ashton appears. Out of thin air. You swore he wasn’t there just a moment ago. Then again, you also swore you knew a lot more about yourself than you actually do.

"My job," you reply, plainly. As if his presence wasn’t effecting you in the slightest.

"I can tell… Really puttin’ in the work just standing there n’ looking cute…. ain’t ‘ya honey?"

A rumble of nerves roll down your spine as soon as the word leaves his lips.

Honey.

The nickname, although endearing, never failed to drive you up the walls. No matter the context.

"Standing and looking cute is at the top of my resume. It’s what landed me the roadie spot, actually."

Ashton nods at your blunt sarcasm, an eyebrow raised in intrigue as his confidence bounces off of your shoulders. You pause for a moment to take in his appearance, speaking on the fact that each time you looked in his direction lead you to deafening heart palpitations.

His reddened, sun-kissed cheeks were adorned with sunglasses, resting beneath a netted trucker hat which allowed his chestnut-honey-blonde curls to peek out from beneath the brim. His broad chest was complimented by a worn Def Leppard tee, which he had taken the liberty of sloppily hacking off its sleeves to make it into a tank top.

He looked ravishing, as always. It was hard to look away. But you knew in your mind that he was ogling at you with similar intentions.

It was always so fucking obvious.

"Hey," Ashton breaks the silent stare-down, "I forgot some shit back in the van… Mind waitin’ up for me?"

You stutter for a moment, tugging at the hem of your t-shirt, "Uh, yeah. I don’t mind. I’ll be right here."

His face morphs into a small smile as he holds up his hands, "Don’t move an inch. I’ll be riiiiight back."

It was hard to bite back your giddy smile as Ashton scurried towards the van, holding onto the top of his hat as he jogged away.

You felt so dumb, waiting up for him. Dumb was the only word to describe it. Absolutely smitten. Lovesick. Just fucking dumb.

Then again, the entire situation was dumb. And quite frankly, you were tired of feeling that way.

"Got it," Ashton returns, holding up a single pair of drum sticks.

"Don’t tell me you ran all the way back over there just to grab one pair of fuckin’ sticks."

The two of you start to walk as Ashton brushes off your scrutiny. "This isn’t just any pair of sticks. These are my lucky sticks. I use ‘em to warm up. Gives me an extra boost before each show."

You cross your arms, feeling oddly small next to his towering stature.

"Sure. Whatever you say, Ashton."

"Don’t sass me. I don’t like that shit," he frowns disingenuously, sliding in front of you to hold the door open for you, "But then again, I do love it when you say my name."

It was getting harder now to fight the urges inside of you. The itches begging to be scratched by the only person who knew exactly where to reach.

Once you both entered the backstage area, your mind began to race with all the thoughts that had been plaguing you since the moment you locked eyes with him in the parking lot.

How long until soundcheck? Where’s the nearest exit? How fast could the two of you get undressed and get this shit over with?

"You should put your stuff down," you say to him calmly, swallowing back the lump in your throat.

Ashton stops short in front of one of the dressing rooms, readjusting the strap of his bag. A wicked smirk sprawls across his cheeks as his eyes flick down to your lips.

"How about you stop worrying about me, and start worrying about that pretty head on your shoulders. Looks like it’s about to fuckin’ pop."

You roll your lips inwards, feeling yourself take a self-conscious step back as he subtly leans in closer. He gazes at you, oddly softly.

"My head’s fine," you reply, "Worrying is my job."

"Is that so?" Ashton’s quick quip has you stumbling back further, to the point where you’re backed completely against the wall. He towers over you, to no surprise, before anchoring a subtle hand on your waist.

The touch alone sends a shock wave through your body. You felt frozen in time. Frozen in this moment. He ducks down to whisper into your ear, lips barely grazing your cheekbone.

"If it’s your job to stress n’ worry, I’d say I could help with that, at least a little bit. Don’t you agree?"

You swallow hard before replying. Damn you.

"I— I suppose."

"Good," you could practically feel his menacing smile against your skin, "Bathroom. Ten minutes."

A desperate sigh barely escapes your larynx as he draws his gaze back into yours. Your eyes go doe, yet his intensity never falters.

In a shoddy attempt at pushing him away, you place your palms flat against his chest. But he just gazes at your fingertips in amusement, before scooping up your hands, and placing a tender kiss onto your knuckles.

"Don’t be late."

You weren’t sure how much time had passed while you stood in the same spot, right where he had left you. But as soon as you’d noticed that he had rounded the corner towards the wings, you hit the ground running.

The beating of your heart was traveling up to your throat as you stalked the halls in your squeaky old boots, completely oblivious to your surroundings. You were one track minded, to put it simply. And running was super embarrassing.

But who really cares?

You skidded to a stop in front of the bathroom door, latching onto the handle and shaking it to ensure your privacy.

"Anyone in there?" You shout, your voice weakening.

To your relief, nobody replied, so your first order of business was to body slam the door open and lock it behind you.

A sigh tumbles past your lips the moment your back presses against the steel clad restroom door. You couldn’t bear to look in the mirror, to see how much of a disheveled mess you’d become from standing in the hot sun, combined with the frenzied actions that lead you into this bathroom.

Your foot tapped impatiently against the tiles, occasionally checking your watch while you continued to second guess how many minutes was exactly ten of them.

But as you spiral on behalf of the hands on the clock, you hear a quadruple knock at the bathroom door. It was disembodied, no voice behind it asking if it was occupied, nobody wondering if it was you.

You knew what that knock meant.

It was fucking game time.

With a collective breath, you spin around, hastily undoing the lock and cracking open the door.

First, you see the trucker hat. Then, the golden chains. The sunglasses discarded and hanging on the collar of his shirt and the tattooed biceps that accompanied the lack of sleeves.

"Mind if I come in?"

"What’s the password?"

There’s a brief pause from behind the door, followed by a quiet chuckle.

"The password is: let me the fuck in, honey girl."

The door swings open and suddenly you’re stumbling back. You’ve lost all control of your movements and Ashton was finally holding you up by the strings. Like a sad little puppet.

As the door slams shut behind the commotion of Ashton pressing you up against the bathroom wall, all you could think about was how the echo of it slamming was about to make the ringing in your ears much, much worse.

You don’t even get a moment to process how quickly these events were unfolding, before Ashton’s hands are cradling your waist and his stubble is rubbing against your jawline as he nips gently at your neck.

"Been thinkin’ about you," he murmurs, followed by a trill of goosebumps running down your spine.

"Have you really?"

"Mhmmmm." His satisfied hum leads you to give into whatever was holding you back. Your fingers tangle into the hair at the base of his neck, sliding up to knock the hat off of his head and run through his unruly curls.

“Gonna prove it?”

The words fall short coming out of your mouth, said with the least confidence you’d ever felt in your life, but you hadn’t the soul in you to care. His lips were running rampant towards the neckline of your t-shirt and the only thing you could think about now was how soft they felt.

“M’gettin’ there, yeh,” Ashton bumbles, the stubble on his upper lip brushing against you as he smiles into your skin, “You’re talkative today, aren’t you?”

Your face falls flat, thrown off guard by that snide comment, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

It was moments like these that had you questioning whatever the hell was going on in that thick skull of his; you couldn’t tell whether or not to feel used, flattered by the fact that he’d noticed something off about your character, or just plain offended.

His head pops up when he feels your body freeze, hands dropping off of your hips to cup your cheeks and force your eyes into his. “Nothin’ bad, honey. You just— don’t usually do the talking around here. Thought that was reserved for the ‘blabbermouth’.”

You could feel your jaw tense when the calluses on his palms caress your cheekbones, awfully flushed by his condescending tone yet still enjoying it nonetheless. He was referring to the one single time where you snapped, and told him he talked too much. In which he then proceeded to hold onto that statement for a week, and remind you of it every chance he could.

“So what if I wanna talk? Not like you listen to me anyway.”

Ashton’s face drops lightly, a twinge of a smile still left beneath the outgrown stubble gracing his jaw. His broad palms still cupped your face, your words that oozed ambiguity giving him all the means to squeeze your cheeks together until your lips pursed.

“Oh c’mon, you don’t mean that. Do you really think I don’t listen to you?”

His thumb brushes against your top lip, still squashed between his hands, “Doesn’t seem like it, no.”

“Honey, as long as words are falling from those pretty lips, I’m all fuckin’ ears.”

Jesus.

You couldn’t stand to entertain whatever this weird, poetic drabble was about, it was getting you oddly worked up and now, your time left in this bathroom was at the mercy of the poet himself.

“No reply? Damn, I worked hard on that one,” Ashton says with utmost seriousness, taking his hands from your cheeks and moving them back to their original position on your waist, “To think I’ve wasted some of my best material just to bomb my set.”

For some reason, the typical witty remarks that you’d grown so accustomed to were making you seethe. A characteristic that was so unapologetically’ ‘Ashton’ left you feeling like there was an anchor tied around your neck.

You swore you’d loved everything about him. Maybe your manifestations of these feelings one day disappearing were finally coming true.

“Ash, can we just get this moving? My boss is already on my ass about running late from earlier and I just—”

“—Your boss, huh?” his head tilts to the side, his towering frame reinstating its power in this given moment, and your inner monologue from before becoming null and void, “And here I am thinking I was your boss.”

Okay, now you just wanted to reach up and wring out his neck.

“You know what I meant, dickhead. Y’know the guy who runs around with a big headset and bitches me out because your dumbass decided to run off and go missing 5 minutes before curtains? That’s my boss.”

Ashton chuckles, although you can’t quite place the tone, “So then— what does that make me?”

Your jaw ticks again, fighting everything inside of you to shut him up with either a kiss or a sucker punch.

“You don’t even wanna’ know what I think you are, Ashton.”

Something about that comment dropped the tension from between your bodies, Ashton’s steel-faced gaze suddenly disappearing and leaving you practically cross eyed whilst he slammed his lips against yours. You melt into him, albeit a bit sheepishly, letting his tongue roam your mouth and taste every inch that he’d been torn from while you were speaking.

“Like when you’re mean t’ me,” his words knock against your bottom lip before he’s sinking his teeth down into it, “You’ve got a lot of nerve.”

“Just— shut up. Please.” you retort, pressing the front of your body against his torso and rolling your hips to get a semblance of the feeling of him.

“Is somebody mad at me?” He pops up for a millionth time, although you really wished he’d just shove his tongue down your throat instead.

“No.”

“Is there something that you’re not telling me, hm?” There was that bullshit, devil-may-care attitude again. Coming right back around to bite you.

“No.”

You stand your ground, trying to fight the invasive thoughts of telling him everything you truly felt. The good, bad, and ugly.

“I have a feeling you may be lying but, I won’t pry. Unless— that meant I’d make you angry. You’re sexy when you’re mad at me.”

Ashton’s hands had wandered beneath your t-shirt, now traversing the soft flesh of your torso while he continued to poke every single goddamn one of your buttons.

“So, I’m not sexy all the time?” you try to earn back your playful crown.

“‘Never said that. But, I’ll admit you’re at your sexiest when you look like you want to crack me in the jaw.”

Unable to argue, you shrug, still ticked off by his pestering yet just about ready to tear the already hacked up shirt off of his back. You kiss him again, a bit more forcefully this time, hoping things would stay that way.

A moan rips through your throat when his grip on you tightens, unable to control the volume of your noises yet still, not finding it in you to care. After holding you hostage against the cool bathroom tiles for the entirety of this exchange, he slowly began to back you away from it.

A blind stumble leads you, Ashton, and your ass straight to the lip of the countertop. He used his strength against your limp body to hoist you up onto it, giving you a nice perch and an even nicer slot for him to slide between your legs.

“So good for me, my girl,” Ashton coos, his lips still practically in your mouth, “Always knows exactly what to do for me.”

My girl.

“Your girl?”

The moment freezes. With Ashton tucked between your legs and the back pockets of your jeans damp from being sat on the sink. “What was that?” he asks, still a bit drunk on the taste of your lips.

“You just called me your girl.”

“I did say that, didn’t I? Don’t I always?”

You raise an eyebrow, debating biting your tongue and pretending like you didn’t let your inner monologue slip into your reality, “Well, yeah.”

“And— you’re my girl, aren’t you?”

The way his sweaty curls flopped into those dumb green eyes made them shimmer even more, you were starting to get pissed off simply by his existence. The taunting, the teasing, the ‘making you feel worthless without really even trying’, it was becoming too much to bear.

The cord that held up your heart strings and any last bit of patience you possessed had finally fucking snapped.

“Y’know what, Ash— how about you tell me? Am I really your girl?”

A low chuckle takes up the empty space left behind your pressing question, Ashton’s hands now restless against your hip bone as his eyes searched your face for something to say.

“Is that what this is? Why you’re so mad at me? C’mon, honey girl. Don’t do this t’me right now.”

“Do what to you? Ask a question?” your words bite, and they bite hard, “Don’t you think this is all a little unfair?”

Ashton’s jaw twitches. You’d never seen his face drop so quickly from that shit-eating grin but low and behold, you seemed to have struck a nerve. Maybe even a few nerves. His hands fall from your hips, although still inches away from your face as he huffs through his nose in frustration.

“We can have this conversation another time.”

“Ashton, I don’t think there’ll be another time. Not if you keep pulling this stupid, elusive bullshit—”

“Y/N, please—” His voice gets weaker as he cuts you off, you could practically feel him trembling.

“No. I’m tired of this shit dude! I’m tired of feeling like there’s no end in sight when it comes to you. You string me along like your gross little puppet— Don’t you ever feel sorry? For me? For yourself? God, do you feel anything at all?!”

Your throat began to burn up, that awful chest pain closing in on you as tears begin pricking at your lower lash line. God, please don’t cry, you thought, please don’t fucking cry.

“I can promise you, I feel things. Please— don’t paint me as heartless.”

He reattaches his hands to you, like a moth to a flame. His touch reignites that fuzzy feeling you get whenever he’s around and you’d just wished for even a second it would go away. But as you’d said, finally vocalized out to the man who keeps you up at night:

There really was no end in sight.

“I’m tired, Ash. Tired of feeling so fucking— used.”

As though you’d lost control of your senses, your hand finds its way to his curls. Those curls you love to tug, and play with. To inhale and exhale on the rare occasion that he lays on your chest to listen to the sound of your heartbeat. The thought of him was intoxicating, despite the fiery red fury you’d just unleashed into his now sad, glassy eyes.

You’d hoped you didn’t ruin the moment, because you were now afraid it’d be the last.

“It’s complicated.”

That was it?

That was all he had to say for himself?

“Are you fucking serious?” you bite, those words hurting more than any pain you’d ever felt in your life.

“Just— give me some time. Please? If you give me time I promise, I’ll have a better answer for you.”

“Time’s a fucking illusion with you. I’ve given you all the time in the goddamn world, Ashton. Y’know what— fuck this. I’m leaving—”

Before you could even attempt to slide off of the countertop, his arms stiffen before your boots reach the floor. He holds you between his hands with force, digging his fingertips into that soft skin on your waist.

“Honey,” the nickname drips with persuasion, “don’t get yourself all worked up now. You’ve had a rough enough day already.”

Ashton manages to prop you back onto the counter, after using enough force to keep you in his arms. It was painfully clear that he didn’t want you to leave, and if you’d really wanted to, you would’ve.

“You’re such an asshole,” you mutter, the end of your sentence cut short by his hands moving down to your ass and pulling you into him. Your gaze was now glued to the floor, unable to face those stupid eyes that look like the forest and feel like home.

“You don’t mean that.”

His tone is sharp, but you double down. “Yes, I do.”

Before you could even exhale, Ashton grabs your chin between two fingers, forcing you to look back into his own. You tremble between his fingertips, bottom lip quivering like a desperate, desperate mess.

“If that’s how you really feel— look at me and say it again.”

Although you’d seemed to have lost your senses when it came to Ashton months ago, right now was no exception. You couldn’t control just how quickly your lips reattached to his, let alone how mindlessly you had begun feeling up his broad shoulders and taut back like they were the last two things you’d ever touch.

He groans into your mouth and it’s like music to your ears, ringing true like church bells and finally earning back those weakening heart palpitations.

“God fuckin’— dammit—“ you curse out in frustration; Ashton’s wide, calloused hands snaking beneath your shirt and squeezing the soft sides of your hips.

“Baby, move with me,” he orders, pulling you off of the counter while your lips are still attached. Of course, you oblige. No questions asked.

As your tongues tangle sweetly in that rough, frenzied kiss, Ashton is positioning your limp body around like there was no tomorrow. His hands moved from your shoulders, to the small of your back, all the way down to the pockets of your jeans; where his slender fingers staked claim before he was whipping you around to face the mirror.

A gasp escapes your chest when you catch your own reflection, having been ripped away from such a heated moment. You felt as though you were even more disheveled than you were angry, just a few moments ago.

“Look at how beautiful you are, honey,” Ashton coos into the mirror, his hands plastered to your waist as he stoops over your shoulder.

“Mhmmm.” There was no room left in your right mind for words so, sounds should do just fine.

“Want you t’ watch,” he begins, along with his hands that had started their journey of lifting your t-shirt to expose your midriff, “Look how fuckin’ gorgeous.”

You do as you’re instructed, watching how your lips part and your face falls flush when Ashton moves in on your breasts. He massages them gently over your bra, squeezing them before trailing blistered fingers down your stomach to the waistband of your jeans.

“Pretty like a painting,” he taunts, fiddling with your button before popping it open and unzipping the fly, “‘Could do this all day.”

A smile sneaks out of you, but is immediately wiped away when he starts to tease just below your navel. Soft whines slowly begin to float past your lips and right into Ashton’s ears as he traces lines across your skin— he was nodding to the rhythm of your voice.

“Ashton—” you squeeze out, but his mouth is preoccupied by the sensitive spot on your neck that drove the both of you wild.

He hums in delight, “Sounds s’ pretty when you say my name.”

You could barely stand the teasing but he seemed to read your mind; Ashton was never one to keep you waiting. He takes his hand and slowly pushes it down into your underwear, taking his index finger and dragging it up your slit. You wince at the sudden contact; how aroused he’d made you by merely teasing and feathery touches.

“God, so fuckin’ wet for me— already?”

It was virtually impossible to pull your eyes away from the obscenities that were happening below your waist. You attempted to snap back at him, maybe even slip in a little nasty comment about how you were still angry at his dumb face and stupid green eyes. But as his fingers stretched and curled, sending shockwaves through your entire body, the most you could do was slump backwards. Right into his arms.

“Oh my God,” you manage to weasel out the words lodged behind your tongue, that index finger of his working magic and making circles around your sensitive bud.

Your eyelids were getting heavy now, overstimulated by Ashton’s nimble handiwork. Would it be the worst thing to close your eyes and forget that conversation from moments ago?

Why the hell not.

“Ashton.”

His name catches on your teeth as you fight the feeling of him. Ashton, Ashton, Ashton.

He dragged one more line up your folds, collecting your wetness onto his fingers.

“Mmhm?”

Right as you open your mouth to speak again, he curls his finger inside of you. You writhe and squirm, pushing back onto his chest that was seemingly going nowhere if not to support your weakened body.

“Holy shit—“ you whine, eyelids finally giving up their fight and lulling closed once he’d found the rhythm of you at his fingertips.

“Ah ah ah, no,” Ashton tuts, one hand still working around the clock while the other shoots up to the top of your throat, just below your chin. He forces your eyes back open and when you’d met him in the mirror, the most you could do was moan.

“Eyes on me, honey girl.”

Your senses were lost, your legs were going numb; you were shaking and moaning like a desperate mess and once again, you were held up by strings like the sad little puppet you were.

Were, and always will be.

“C’mon, don’t lose me now,” he mumbles, dipping down to sink his teeth into the base of your neck, “You’re doin’ such a good job.”

The face staring back at you in the mirror was barely your own. It felt like torture to watch yourself unravel for him, let alone watching everything unfold at the mercy of his fingertips. This wasn’t one of those thoughts that you could just stare at the ceiling to forget about; it was real, and it was now.

And a part of you felt the need to just smile.

As Ashton trails kisses up your neck to the side of your face, he catches that lazy grin of yours in the mirror.

“There she is, there’s my fuckin’ honey girl.”

The thrusts of his fingers were growing sloppier, your stomach contorted in knots as you writhed in his hold. The sounds of your arousal echoed against the matchbox walls of the restroom, making your face fall flush as the smell of his cologne had you dizzy enough already.

“Gonna cum’ for me baby? I feel it— you’re fuckin’ close now, aren’t you?”

There was now a heated staredown taking place in the mirror. One hand of his wrapped around your throat while the other worked away at your core beneath your jeans. God, it was an obscene sight to behold. And Ashton seemed to agree.

His eyes zones in on yours, hypnotizing you with those speckled irises as the corner of his lips perked up into a smile. He was egging you on, knowing that his face and encouraging words alone could lead you toppling towards the finish line.

“Ashton— oh, Ashton—” you whine, your breathy words causing him to press into you and push your body against the counter. He was rough around all edges yet gentle in the way that he handled you, making sure you were comfortable enough for him to kick your leg open wider and clamp down on your neck like it was nothing.

“Fuck!” you cry out, that familiar feeling of butterflies entrapped in your lower stomach starting to brew.

“Give it t’ me, baby— Nice n’ easy— Fuck yes, you feel incredible— So fuckin’ tight…”

His voice started to sound like a siren’s song, still drowning in his strong cologne and now feeling the raging hard on of his pressing against your backside, it all had you doubled over in ecstasy. You never wanted this to end, truth be told; and Ashton wasn’t going to let that happen.

Not quite yet.

“Look at you,” Ashton growls, his face welded with concentration, “So fuckin’ dirty… Watchin’ me fuck you with my fingers in the mirror. You like that, don’t you?”

You nod sheepishly, opening your mouth but wincing as his thumb and index finger squeeze the sides of your neck.

“Honey, you— you gotta’ answer me when I ask questions.”

“Yes— I— I like it, Ashton.”

He’s still working at you with his fingers, now paying the most attention to your clit and rubbing quick circles against it.

“Oh c’mon, is that all you’ve got? Tell me how much you love bein’ a dirty fuckin’ slut for me.”

Right as you’re about to answer his pressing demands, your orgasm begins to rip through you like a bullet to the chest. You cry out, slumping against his back, your legs twitching uncontrollably as he matches the timing of your high with his magical fingertips.

“I love it! Fuck, yes— I love it!”

Although your ears were ringing from the orgasm that just came crashing down onto you, you could faintly hear a chuckle from the base of Ashton’s chest. He was laughing.

Maybe you were overthinking it, but could it be that he was laughing at you?

“God, you are just— sensational,” Ashton catches your limp body, his hands quickly finding and supporting your waist as you stumble backwards like you were made of jello.

“Wh—what?” you reply, hoping you’d heard him correctly and weren’t just hearing voices.

“I said,” he begins, grabbing your chin once more and forcing your eyes back into the mirror, “You are fucking sensational.”

“I— I don’t—” Your head was cloudy, so to speak. And Ashton suddenly switching from one tone to the other had it messed up even more. That damned pearly smile in the mirror was almost mocking you, acting like he hadn’t just had your livelihood at his fingertips.

Literally.

“You alright?” Ashton asks you gently, after a few moments of unresponsiveness.

“Yeah I— I’m good…”

What Ashton didn’t know was that you were, in fact, not good. Maybe even worse than before. As cliché as it all seemed, having him so close made you only want more of him— and you knew that desire would be dust in the wind once the curtains fell.

Your time with Ashton never had a set clock, but this time felt oddly short. Change was weird, change was hard. You weren’t sure you liked that.

“You’re just a peach, aren’t you? Feeling any better?” He leans down to the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your ear as he plants tiny kisses in his trails.

“I suppose so,” you mumble, leaning into him one more time before the inevitable end of this tender moment.

“I told you I could help ya’. Maybe your job’ll be a little easier tonight, honey. I know mine will.”

The irony of his statement almost made you chuckle, but you couldn’t stand to be staring at your own reflection anymore. You spin around to face him, cupping his face in your hands and letting your thumb trace the stubble on his cheek.

His eyes found your lips almost immediately, that gaze of his was telling enough.

“Have a good show tonight, Ash— Feels like I don’t say that enough.” You weren’t sure what in your somewhat right mind led you to say that, but the pit in your stomach seemed to be taking the lead.

“Oh, well, thank you. I— I appreciate that.”

You caress his face for a few more moments, debating whether or not to kiss him. But he makes that decision for you, grabbing your hips sweetly and pulling you in.

The kiss is tender; not hungry like before. There’s better intentions behind his lips and his tongue was about as sweet as ever. You close your eyes, savoring the moment since you never quite remember to do so.

“I always have a better show when I know you’re there watching, y’know.”

You chuckle, his voice was soft like cotton and almost brought a tear to your eye. He presses his forehead against yours, his nose brushing yours gently.

“Well then, I’ll be there,” you whisper sheepishly, letting his hands roam your hips one last time before he’s pulling away, “I have to be, anyway. I get paid to do so.”

“Good. I’ll be looking for you before curtains so, I better find what I’m lookin’ for.”

An exasperated sigh leaves your chest as you watch him step away from you, his footsteps taking him towards the door. This was the end, you thought, but the cycle must continue.

Life goes on once again, as usual.

“I’ll see you out there,” you wave, remnants of your conversation from earlier plaguing the back of your head as you try to savor your last few moments alone with him.

Ashton just smiles. That stupid, dumb, idiotic smile. The one that drives you up the walls and keeps you occupied whenever your head hits a pillow. He waves back at you, like a high school crush, his face gleaming as per usual which only made you want to curl up into a ball in the corner and die.

His voice is once again that soft, tender tone. You wished you were dreaming but unfortunately, you were wide awake.

“I’ll be waitin’ for ya’, my honey girl.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[calumsbiceps]

luke just being luke

[dear-lacey]

me

this island is even more present in my head than before...

[orangeinecstasy]

Relax ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟluke hemmings

paring: luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: blurb about how luke wants to relax after a long day

cw: 18+ MDNI - oral (f receiving)

a/n: this is my first time writing smut so i'm sorry if it's shit.

wc: 636

*reblogs, notes, and feedback are greatly appreciated!! smut after the cut!!!

“Hey baby, I’m home,” Luke called out as he slipped his shoes off, leaving them on the shoe rack at the front door. The ache in his shoulders hadn’t gone away during the drive back home from the studio, which only made the stress and tiredness wafting over his body more apparent. 

“Hey Lu,” you smiled as he appeared in the living room, lifting the blanket you were under so he could join. He weakly returned the smile, trying to hide his unpleasant mood. He quickly joined you on the couch, head buried in your neck, strong arms wrapped around your waist. He breathed in your sweet scent, finally feeling his body relax. “Awe, honey,” you coo, threading your fingers through his curls, “long day?”

Luke simply nods, hands slipping past the hem of your oversized shirt, wanting to feel your warmth. He always loved it when he wore his clothes; how your scent mixed with his was simply intoxicating. “So long, so fucking long.”

You kissed his forehead, hands moving down to draw patterns on his back. “Well, you’re back home, my love, and I’m so proud of you for working so hard.”

“I love you,” he whispers into your skin. Lazily trailing kisses down your neck until he reaches your sweet spot at its base, sucking and nipping at it. “Luke,” his name fades into a moan, nails digging softly into his skin. “I need to taste you,” he whines slightly, wet open-mouth kisses trailing down the valley of your chest. Your hips hitch, grinding down on Luke’s thigh to provide some desperately needed friction as he moves down your body. 

Soon enough, he settled between your legs, hot kisses pressed on your inner thigh. Slow and antagonizing and so close to where you needed him most. “Luke,” you pleaded, hands finding his hair again and pulling it softly. “I know, my love, I know,” his words were followed by a genital bite into your plush skin before his fingers hooked around the hem of your underwear, slipping them off with ease. 

“My god…” he mumbled as he repositioned himself between your thighs. “You look fucking delectable,” his thumb circles your clit, the sudden sensation causing your hips to buck up and press together in an attempt to lessen the feeling. “So sensitive,” he chuckled, arms hooked around your waist, forcing your legs open as he pulled you closer. God, just his breath on your cunt could make you cum. 

His tongue pushed between your folds, finally tasting the sweet warmth he so desperately needed. “Fuck-“ you breathed out, the grip on his hair becoming tighter as he devoured you. He groaned around your clit before taking it into his mouth, sucking the sensitive bud. Moans and curses filled the room as the knot in your stomach grew larger and larger. Your thighs shook gently as they tightened around Luke’s head, trying to lower the intensity of his movements. 

“I’m close,” you breathed out, bare chest heaving as Luke’s movements intensified. Hips grinding down against him to obtain what you needed so desperately. “Cum, baby, just let it all out.” 

Your hips bucked a final time as you came, thighs feeling weak and shaky as the two of you rode out your high. Luke slowly pulled away, open-mouth kisses placed along your skin before your lips connected once more, the taste of you spilling into your mouth. “Thank you,” he said between small kisses, lips curled into a bright smile.

“Mhm, of course, baby,” you moved some hair from his face. “Now, why don’t we head to the bedroom, and you let me take care of you.” 

“Well, I can’t say no to that,” he stood with strong arms wrapping around your waist, picking you up easily and carrying you two to the bedroom. 

part two?

[bartxnhood]

you don’t go to parties | a.f.i

ashton irwin x fem!reader

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

warnings: drinking, swearing, just the party scene

w/c: 2.4k

requests open

not proofread

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

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

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

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

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

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

that was, until the parties.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

some nights were worse than others.

one night it got very out of hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your inbox was overflowing with them.

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

of course, you still had feelings for him.

you never stopped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“how can i trust you?” you ask

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