#ashton irwin fanfics

[inthepassengerside]

cockwarming with luke. he’s been wanting to try it and one day he gets the courage to ask you and you guys enjoy it for a little while before he whimpers and starts fucking into you and you enjoy that even more <3

can’t take it

warnings: cockwarming turning into eventual sex, dirty talk, mentions of overstimulation

a/n: this request had me shaking. it’s also veeeerrrryyy old so i’m sorry to the anon who requested this since it’s so late! the ending was hard for me to finish and it still sucks. hope you enjoy though! it’s not proofread

masterlist

It was a lazy Sunday for both you and your boyfriend Luke. You sat in the morning, enjoying your cups of coffee, watching the view from your shared apartment, and listening to a soft record spinning from the living room. It was ideal for the two of you, just being and taking in each other’s presence. You couldn’t ask for anything more.

Your day continued to look like this until the evening. Sitting, watching shows, snacking, some house work. All things that didn’t require much energy, just the driven energy from each other.

The only thing was, you could tell Luke was a little on edge. It made your weekly routine feel different than usual. You were unable to pin what exactly was going on, so you let it go.

Currently, the two of you sat upstairs in your shared bedroom. You were putting away laundry and Luke was fixing up the clutter around your bed. “Gonna go shower baby,” you said to Luke, making your way over to the connected bathroom. He walked over to kiss your cheek, “Okay love.”

As you undressed and got under the warm water, you couldn’t help but try and puzzle some of the reasons why Luke was acting the way he was today. Not that he wasn’t normally affectionate, but he was kissing and hugging you more than usual throughout the day.

You just wondered if something was up emotionally. But either way, Luke had come to you about those things before, so what was holding him back now?

You stayed in the shower for about 10 minutes, washing your body and doing a quick shave before shutting off the water. You stepped out and wrapped a towel around yourself before leaving the bathroom.

Luke was sat on the bed, in sweats and a tee, watching some reruns of How I Met Your Mother. Nothing irregular for the night time. You walked over and laid next to him starting to scroll on your phone.

About 5 minutes had passed before you got up and started changing, shrugging on some of Luke’s boxers and a tank top.

You had barely gotten the top over your head before you felt Luke’s arms wrap around you, burying his head into your neck. You didn’t even notice him get off the bed, but you melted into his touch anyway, “Hi baby.”

“Hi beautiful,” he whispered, pressing tiny kisses along the side of your neck and across your collarbone. You shuddered beneath him, throwing your head back, letting out a gasp.

Was this it? Was he just so needy?

You let him pull you back before your back hit the mattress and he fell over you. His eyes burning into yours and his chain dangling so close to your mouth. He moved down, kissing a trail down your stomach before shrugging off your bottoms. “Y’ love stealing my clothes, yeah?” You giggle, “of course.”

You pull him up by his chain, and his eyebrow raises tauntingly. You grab his neck and pull his head down to kiss him. The kiss is passionate, hot, and sensual. He pulls away to shrug off his shirt, throwing it somewhere along with the boxers to make a new pile of clutter he’ll have to clean up later.

Luke rolls you both over so you’re sat on his lap and you work on shrugging off his sweats. Once you do so, you press your palm against the obvious bulge in his black boxers. He lets out a whimper, “Oh fuck.”

You start to peel off your tank top, stripping until you’re bare and your boy lets out a groan. He brings up his hands to both of your tits, fondling them and pinching your nipples. You let out a squeak from the sensitivity.

He brings his mouth into the mix, running his tongue over your nipple, looking up at you. You push your fingers in his curls, “Fuuuuck Lu,” you cry.

He continues his actions, making you cry, the slurping noises that are coming from him feed into the heat of the moment. He repeats his actions on your other breast, taking his time.

When he’s done and your tits look more swollen and red than usual, he backs away and peers up at you.

Before both of you are aware, you start grinding into him. Luke lets out a groan, “Jesus christ.” You move your hips forward and backward, your clit nudging his covered length in such an intense way where you’re moaning too. You’re both starting to lose your breath.

You feel your cunt dripping. It’s soaking through his boxers, even the thick material, and you know he can feel it too.

You continue your movements, not slowing down, and it isn’t until you hear Luke gasp, “Slow down, baby, shit,” that you halt your hips. You pant too, looking down at Luke.

“Sorry, you’re just so fuckin’ hot sometimes. Can’t help myself,” you giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’m hot? I was about to come already from your soaked pussy.” His voice is deep and it makes your cheeks go red. You feel a faint smile creep onto your lips, in which he mirrors.

You rest your forehead against his for a little, silently agreeing to take things slow for the rest of the night.

Luke’s hands find your ass and palm your cheeks while you sit up again. “Can we try something tonight? I- I saw something online so I looked into it. It made me curious,” he spoke. Your eyes widened a bit. “Yeah, what is it?”

“I read about this thing… called cockwarming,” you let out a small noise at the name, “It’s just like, me inside of you..? I don’t move when I’m in,” he finishes. You notice his neck is pink and it’s creeping up to his ears. You don’t really say anything mostly because you were still thinking. Wasn’t the point of sex to release?

Luke takes your silence as a no, “Sorry, we don’t have to. I was just interested, I understand.”

“No, love, I want to try. Sorry, I was just thinking about it.” You speak quickly, hoping to calm Luke down. You could see his nerves become more visible, embarrassed. His eyes widen again, “Really? You sure?” He questions. You nod, “Yeah. It’s hot.”

You ask him about his off behavior today, “Is this why you were a little weird today?” Luke nods. You say nothing else, dragging your body down towards the band of Luke’s boxers.

You snap the elastic against him, eliciting a gasp. You tug his boxers off him, and immediately his cock springs free. Your eyes are filled with hunger as you make your way back up to stroke him. “Oh my fuck,” Luke whimpers. You smirk, unable to not notice the red tip leaking with pearly white liquid.

You drag your hand off of him and push it inside of yourself, letting out a pornographic moan. “Oh,” Luke breathes. You take your fingers out of your cunt and wrap your hand around Luke’s length again, your wetness serving as a lubricant. “Holy fucking shit, you’re so hot.”

You work him slowly, not wanting to get him so riled up before he gets inside you. You know you’ve already failed though. “Need you to sit on my cock now, love. Please,” he cries. You let out a breath and remove your hand from him.

You make your way back up his body and Luke’s hands find your ass again, caressing you and nudging you up slowly to sit on him. “Honey, you’ve gotta put me in. Can’t take it,” He cries. You reach down and grab is hard cock before pushing it inside of you as you sit.

There’s always going to be a stretch that you’ll never get used to. The burn of his long, thick member pushing inside of you. You slide down very slowly and peer up to see Luke trying his best to hold in his noises. Once your sat, Luke’s jaw is clenched as he tries to relax around you.

“Feel so good around me, honey,” Your boyfriend whispers as he grabs your waist with his hands. You clench involuntarily at his words, letting out a whimper, and he groans deeply. “F-fuck baby! Don’t clench like that, can’t take it.”

You mumble an apology, although it comes out as a moan. You try your hardest for your walls not to grip around him, but you’re like a vice. You can’t help it. His whimpers are becoming louder and louder, and you realize your ability to take the reigns.

“Bein’ such a good boy for me Lu,” your voice is shaky, trying to pretend that his cock inside of you, so deep, isn’t affecting you. But it is. His dick twitches at your words, “Mmmph,” he breathes.

Luke loved to be in charge. You both knew that. But when you were experimenting, he would always switch between between the two roles. Today, with the way he was behaving, you knew he wanted you to take power.

“Yes, yes baby. B-bein’ the best for you, yeah.”

You dig your knees further into each side of the bed, getting him to go impossibly deeper inside of you. Every movement made he swears it gets tighter. “O-oh,” he lets out in a small moan. You kiss his neck, trying to distract him from the pain that he’s unable to do anything—to use you to work himself to release.

Finally, you both are settled, truly feeling one another.

His breath is heavy. You’re able to contain yourself and stabilize your body, but Luke is the opposite. He really thought this would be easier. More enjoyable. Not that he didn’t enjoy being inside of you, but when he was so pent up, all he wanted to do was move.

Nonetheless you two sit like that for a while, kissing on each other, sucking marks into skin, and relishing in the other’s dirty words.

“Such a dirty boy for me, Lu,” you pant, your resolve slowly slipping. “So dirty for me. Your cock in my pussy, not movin’, mhmm feels so good,” you gasp, and he lets out a wail before letting his head fall atop your breasts.

He lays it there for a little longer, relishing in the feeling of you soaked and clamped around him. He focuses on trying to hold back, not to lose all his control and take you right here. But he realizes, he’s only be disobeying his own request, and while he wants to try that sometime, he needs to have you. Now.

Before you know it, Luke fucks his hips impossibly closer to yours, and you gasp. “S-sorry baby… feels too good.” He retracts his hips, pulling you up a bit, before easing himself back in.

Your breaths come out quick, certainly not expecting this, but thanking whatever compelled him to do it. Little did you know that it was you. Your little moans, your dirty whispers, and your soaked pussy. God, it had him in a spiral. If Luke could go now, he would.

His noises though, are what’s getting to you the most. Because even though he’s been bold enough to make his own decisions, he can’t suppress his little whimpers.

Luke’s eyes glass over, “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, could sit here for hours.” You cry, “Y-yeah? Would you like that, love? How about I sit here… and I take what I want. Cream all over your cock over and over again and let you sit here and cry, begging for a little taste.” It’s like your cunt soaks him even more and your own words. And he feels it. “And then you’ll be so sensitive when you finally do get to cum, because i’ll just keep going baby. G’nna end up milking you dry.” You meet your hips with his, beginning to work against his thrusts.

But, your erotic words only make him fuck up into you harder, losing your rhythm you were attempting to set. His cries become louder, and all you’re hearing are his gasps and some slurred “Mmmphs.” You love him like this. Completely at your mercy.

You both get close pretty fast. Due to all the teasing, wordplay, and attempt to cockwarm, all of your feelings are heightened. Everything feels so much better than it usually does.

Luke grips your ass roughly, pushing you further into his grasp. His lips find yours, and it’s messy, yet passionate. His lips trail down from your lips to your jaw, suckling and licking. He slows his pace of fucking you, as he knows you both are close to your orgasms, and he wants to make this incredibly enjoyable for the both of you.

“Baby… I-I’m close,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. He pushes his crotch farther up into you, truly grasping onto the feeling of his cock inside of you because he doesn’t want to take advantage of it right now. It just feels too good for him to comprehend.

You sigh against him, “I know my love, me too.” He lets out a breath of relief. Thank God, he thinks, because if you weren’t right there with him, on the brink of release, he wouldn’t be able to last another few moments.

You unexpectedly topple into your orgasm first, a near scream tearing through your throat. The clenching of your cunt sends him right over the edge with you. You both express your pleasure loudly through words that humble together and loud breaths.

Luke feels your pussy soak his cock once more, and he swears you’ve never been this wet before. He’s never felt it. And he thanks himself for working up the courage to ask you to try something new because he never knew he’d get you this good.

His orgasm, along with yours, feels like absolute bliss. Pleasure tears through the both of you in insane amounts. You feel him paint the inside of you, and it will always feel impeccable. Nothing will ever come close.

“Oh my gosh,” you start to giggle against him as you collapse your body on top of his. “That was amazing, Lu.”

He kisses the top of your head once he regains composure, “Felt too fucking good. Always so good for me, my love.” He pauses. “Never felt you that wet before.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever even been that wet before. Made me feel amazing, tonight Luke. Was so different.” You start tracing patterns along his chest, as he hums softly along your words.

He takes a pause and starts thinking before speaking up after a while.

“Im sorry about ruining the whole cockwarming thing, uh… got too impatient and it just felt too good,” He frowns, realizing he might’ve ruined it for you as well.

“You didn’t ruin anything for me, baby. Felt so good I don’t even care…” You pause, “Let’s just do it now? You’re still inside of me.”

Luke’s face flushes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. And when we wake up, take me,” and as soon as those words leave your mouth, Luke swears he’s hardening again already.

And you feel it. “Luke!”

“We need to go to sleep… like now. If I’m conscious for another five minutes I can’t promise I won’t fuck you again,” his gaze finds yours and his eyes darken.

You look up at him, meeting his stare, returning the same energy. “Can’t say I have a problem with that, Luke.”

[valentiyne]

𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 716 ❀ 𝗅𝗎𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗆𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌

Luke Hemmings x Fem!Reader Summary: Paper-thin walls and numerous noise complaints.

FULL BOOK: MIDNIGHT | L.R.H Warnings: None! Slight swearing if you squint hard enough Word Count: 2.8k Copyright © 2023 Valentiyne. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻

Game Night was hosted every third Friday of the month. Cramped in the new tiny apartment, 7 friends and their significant others wound up on my shitty couch shouting nonsense at each other.

The living room consisted of the old couch, my TV on top of a cardboard box I hadn't quite unpacked yet, and numerous card games.

Holding the slip in my hand, I eye the timer in front of me on the makeshift coffee table My eyes scanned the paper quickly before jumping up and snapping my fingers, "Okay okay, it's born in the water but moves onto land when older."

My friends stare at me dumbfounded, their minds elsewhere as I furrow my brows and tap my feet numerous times. "Come on guys, it's what a tadpole turns into when it's older!" I'm practically yelling now, eyes darting between my friends sitting down and the tiny timer on the table.

"A baby turtle?"

"Andddd time"

I groan in annoyance, dropping the slip of paper while walking back to the spot on the couch, and plopping down with a huff.

"A baby turtle? Seriously?' I scoff, rolling my eyes at my friends who couldn't contain their laughter at my obvious annoyance.

"Okay I'll go nex-", My friend Abby was cut short by a knock on the door. It wasn't necessarily a pound, but it definitely made all of us go silent.

We all look at each other quickly, almost mentally counting everyone to make sure it wasn't an expected visitor.

I slide off the couch, my eyebrows raised for a moment before I walk towards the door. Standing on my tiptoes, I look through the peephole to see my next-door neighbor, Lucas, standing there with an annoyed expression painted on his face. I sigh and unlock the door, poking my head out with a smile.

"Are we too loud?", I ask with innocent eyes, my bottom lip tugged into my teeth as I speak quietly. Lucas gave a friendly smile, his eyebags hidden behind his eyeglasses as he turned to point at his door, "I know it's a Friday night but I'm really busy in the studio tonight... kind of hard to concentrate when there's a bunch of girls next door squealing over....?"

I finish the sentence for him, "If tadpoles are baby turtles." I rub the back of my neck shyly, laughing almost to myself.

"Right yeah, is there any way to keep it down just a tad?"

I give him a thumbs up before we part ways- him rubbing his eyes and kicking his door shut with his bare foot and me turning around and closing it softly. My friends all huddled up behind the door, eavesdropping on our conversation, and as soon as the door shut, they all squealed quietly.

"Oh my gosh! Y/n!", My friend Abby gushing, nudging me with her shoulder harshly. "You never told me you have huge chemistry with your neighbor?"

My eyes grow wide and my hands shoot up in defense, "Oh no- Lucas? He's just a neighbor"

All of my friends' eyes were on me now, and an awkward silence fell upon us. I give a mere shrug before walking back over to the coffee table to scoop up all the cards spawled across it.

"Game night at mine next time?", Abby asks from beside me, picking up the numerous cups with mysterious liquids in them with a disgusted look on her face.

I just nod in response, shoving the cards in their rightful places before sighing softly. We said our goodbyes with platonic kisses on the cheeks and dramatic waves before I was left alone in my apartment again.

It was cold, empty, and dead silent in here- completely opposite of the neighbor beside me I'd assume. My bedroom was similar to the living room- a tiny mattress rested on the floor and my toiletries were packed away in numerous boxes I was too lazy to unbox. My head hits the stiff pillow below me and I could hear Lucas in his bedroom strumming his guitar, humming to himself lowly.

It was a little after one o'clock in the morning, but he seemed to be wide awake singing.

"some things are meant to be secret and not to be heard"

It had officially been two weeks since the game night and two weeks since he came to my door. Lucas and I would occasionally make eye contact on the way to the mailboxes or even hold the elevator for one another- but not a single word was shared between us. He was always in his own world, his head bobbing to an imaginary beat inside his head.

Every night I could hear him singing to himself softly, the wall dividing our bedrooms was as thin as paper. The occasional groan and the sound of notebooks hitting the wall distracted me on nights I needed to sleep, but I never once said anything to him. He was a musician- and a very good one to say the least. I didn't want to be the annoying next-door neighbor.

I swing my door open, looking out into the hallway and scanning each door before finally averting my eyes to his own. The wrench in one hand was held on with a tight grip while the other hand carried the TV mount at my side. I could hear the sounds of various instruments being played from behind his door, his voice clearing every few moments to restart a lyric if it didn't sound right the first time.

The hand that held the wrench swung up, knocking on his door a few times before I took a step back and awkwardly looked around the hallway once again. The sounds from behind his door abruptly stopped and I could hear his heavy footsteps making their way towards the door now. Taking one more step back, I watched as Lucas opened the door and looked down at me,

"I'm sorry, am I being too loud?", He cheekily asked, a smile painted on his lips.

"No no, you're fine.", I laugh at his innocent teasing, quoting our most recent encounter. "I was actually coming over to see if you knew how to mount a TV", I poke my head around his figure and motion towards his apartment, "but seeing as you're busy-"

"I'm not busy." He corrects me, leaning inside his door to grab his keys before turning back towards me and grabbing the box from my hand. "Let me help you out, it'll take 10 minutes tops."

It didn't take 10 minutes. Hell, It didn't even take 30 minutes.

There Lucas and I both were, tools of various shapes and sizes sprawled out across my apartment floor and a cheap bottle of wine I found at the back of my fridge.

"Lucas are you sure you know how to-"

"It's Luke and yes, I know how to do this", he grumbles nonsense to himself as he flips through the instruction manual for the third time tonight. I sighed to myself slightly, trying to keep myself from laughing by taking a swig of the wine.

"Could always just use thumbtacks"

This makes Luke laugh, his eyebrows relaxing on his face and cheeks going bright red. He tosses the manual at me, and I put my hands up to defend myself.

"I'm pretty sure some thumbtacks couldnt hold a 35 pound Tv," He holds his stomach as he rolls around my floor, laughing loudly. I roll my eyes at this, groaning and tossing the screwdriver on the floor.

"Look, it's getting late. I'll just have you come over and do it another time.", I point towards the clock, which was held up with thumbtacks, that read two o'clock in the morning.

"Oh shit, sorry I totally spaced it," Luke stands up now, gathering up his tools quickly and giving me a crooked smile. "I'll swing by sometime this week to help you, I promise." I'm smiling now, shooing him out the door quickly.

"Yeah yeah see you later, rockstar", I tease and close the door abruptly, only to be stopped by a foot in the way.

"What are you doing tomorrow?", The way his eyes glimmered in the hallway light, his hair slicked back from sweat and cheeky dimples appeared as he smiled at me.

"I have finals tomorrow morning, and I'll probably be dead by the time its over- anytime after that I'm free.", I groan dramatically and push my palm into my forehead.

Luke just nods, freeing his foot from the doorway, and gives me a thumbs up, "I'll be sure to be quiet tonight so you can get your rest." I thank him kindly and give him a soft wave before closing the door behind him.

Luke was anything but quiet. I tossed and turned throughout the night, pushing the pillow closer to my ears as I heard him attempting to sing a lyric he wasn't even finished with. if there's one thing I've learned about him in the month and a half I've known him- he was a perfectionist. He sang the same things over and over countless times making sure it was absolutely perfect.

"Cause all these bodies are hoping to get addicted-"

I swing my arm up, smacking on the wall a couple times before groaning and letting it fall to my side once again. His side of the wall went silent immediately, the shuffling of papers and a small mumbled "sorry" was heard.

Luke had avoided me from that point forward: he didn't hold the elevator for me nor did he come and check his overflowing mailbox.

I found myself at his door once again, knocking in one swift movement before clearing my throat. I could hear him shuffling around his apartment, a loud thud followed by a "shit, one second!".

The door opens and a dripping-wet Luke is before me, a towel tightly wrapped around his waist. I blink a few times, holding my gaze above his shoulders out of respect.

"Why are you avoiding me", I ask in a monotone voice, cutting straight to the point. He raises his eyebrows at this now, one hand sassily on his hip.

"Who said I was avoiding you?", He chuckles lightly and opens the door wider, motioning for me to enter. My nose is filled with the smell of the oven baking something sweet mixed with his charcoal body wash. I step inside with a smile, closing the door behind me.

Luke wipes the water from his face and turns away from me, entering his bathroom for a split second, leaving me standing in his kitchen.

I glance around his living room: Pictures of his friends and family are hung up neatly on the wall, his instruments are laid out on the floor around his couch, and his bookshelf is overflowing with numerous copies of musical books.

He emerges from the bathroom once again, now clothed in a sweatshirt and basketball shorts and the towel that was once wrapped around his waist was now encased in his curls.

"I was just going to invite you over actually," He laughs again, flashing me his million-dollar smile before pointing at his dining table. It was decorated with a lace tablecloth, a small bouquet of flowers sitting in a glass-decorated vase, and a plate of steaming hot pasta was laid out. I smile to myself slightly, looking back up at him before taking my seat at the table, he rushes forward, scooting my chair in for me before taking his own seat across from me.

"What's the occasion?" I ask while picking up my fork, poking at the seafood pasta that was professionally plated. If you would've told me he hired a chef to make dinner- I would've believed you.

"I was loud on the night of your finals and I felt horrible knowing I kept you up all night", He picks up his napkin and places it neatly on his lap, "I wanted to make it up to you after I mounted your TV buttt you showed up a little early", He teases.

I take a bite of my food, groaning into the fork with a muffled giggle as my eyes look up at his. The food was amazing, and the flavor was intricately picked out to perfection.

Going back, this perfectly proved my point that Luke was a perfectionist.

We found small talk, conversing over what I was majoring in and what he was busy working on.

"So the album is almost done, I just need to finish this last song," He shrugs his shoulders and scrapes at the remains off his plate. I smile to myself, looking up now with innocent eyes, "Maybe I can help?"

He stands up abruptly, turning around and opening the oven to reveal the freshly baked brownies he had made- from scratch may I add. I groan in anticipation and rub my hands together dramatically. He grabs the brownies with oven mitts, turning around and facing me.

"If you want to help me, I'll allow it", he laughs and places the pan down gently and walks towards his living room, picking up a notebook that was previously thrown across the room.

"Here", he places it in front of me, removing my empty plate and walking

The notebook was written in barely eligible handwriting, with numerous words crossed out and mental notes scribbled on the sides.

Some things are meant to be secret and not to be heard so if I tell you, just keep it and don't say a word. when the doors are all closing.....It's bound to get ?? all these bodies are hoping to get addicted to

The rest of the page was scribbled out, lyrics that never made the cut. I snatch the pen from the metal spiral holding the pages together and click it once.

"it's bound to get.... loud?" I scribble it down next to the question marks and look up at him, scratching his chin with a nod. His cheeks were red now, the wine flushing through his body.

"What rhymes with loud?"

I look up at him now, as he scoots his chair right up next to me to the point our legs are touching.

"Cloud, hmmm,"

"Sound," we both say in unison.

Luke claps his hands together and grabs the pen from my hands, opening the notebook to a new page and scribbling down the new and improved lyrics. I watch him closely, the way his eyes twinkled and dimples poked through when he was concentrating.

I was so screwed. I was falling for my next door neighbor.

I didn't see him for another two weeks, his side of the wall seemed eerily vacant and completely silent. I even knocked a few times in hopes he'd knock back in some sort of rhythm, but there was no response.

Hearing the knock on my door shot my body out of bed, sweat dripping down my neck and sides. I groan and tap on my phone to check the time, blinding myself in the process. The pounding never stopped, not until I stumbled out of bed and opened my door. My heart skipped a beat, praying that the blonde would be on the other side with that cheeky smile I adored.

"Hello?", I ask in a groggy voice whilst rubbing my eyes and squinting up at the person who disturbed my slumber- at 2 a.m. may I add.

Instead of a person, I was met with an empty cold hallway. I avert my gaze down and towards my door mat. There, set up neatly was a bouquet of flowers with a note tied to the front with white lace.

I smile at myself and crouch down, picking up the thoughtful gift and looking down the hallway one last time before kicking my door shut.

Y/n,

I'm sorry I didn't see you before I left. Our album releases at 2:30am today and I was supposed to leave at 2... I just knew I had to leave you something on my way out. I hope you like the flowers I picked out my mom helped me.

I'd have probably sent you the link to the album by the time you finish reading this note.

I'm going to be all over the world, touring and doing what I love. I can't wait to be back home and see you again, i'll make sure to facetime every change I get.

love,

your rockstar

I could hear the familiar ringtone from my bedroom, alerting me that Luke was a man of his word. I wipe a few stray tears and make my way to the bedroom, snatching my phone up with my free hand and clicking the link he had sent me.

This is the song I spent the last 3 months working on, keeping you tossing and turning until finally you perfected it.

Mp3.ifwallscouldtalk.demo

[prettymonegasque]

i'll make up for all of your tears

Fic 1 of the 5 Seconds of Formula One series

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Song: Best Years by 5SOS

You've got a million reasons to hesitate

But darling, the future's better than yesterday

"This is a grade-F diamond, sir. It's 2 carats with a platinum band." The salesperson at the store started explaining as Max zoned out.

Being a Formula One Driver with multiple championships under his belt came with the perk of getting everything he wished for, and boy did he use it. However, the thing he wanted most, unfortunately, didn't come with a price tag on it.

He hated the name Y/N L/N, not the first part, the L/N part. He's been working tirelessly since he was 3 to change it to Verstappen and he's closer now than he ever was. Yet a little voice in him constantly whispered "What if you're not good enough for her?" Max knew that voice wasn't wrong.

2015

Max really missed his best friend. He was extremely grateful that he was on a flight home right now because he wasn't sure how long his sanity would last.

Max was ready to sprint to your house the minute they landed, but his father had other plans. Jos had arranged for a meeting with Max's team to discuss the season so far. Scoring points in his debut Formula One season wasn't something Max expected. He knew it was expected of him but never by him. Maybe it was beginner's luck or maybe he let it get to his head, he couldn't score any points in the last few races.

By the time the meeting was over, Max wasn't sure if he was still alive. He was tormented ruthlessly by his dad. He knew it was all for his good. Everything his dad ever did was for Max to become the World Champion one day. He understood that and he was beyond guilty for messing with that plan with his incompetency. Before he realised, his legs had brought him to your doorstep.

"Maxie! You're back!" The smile on your face was enough for Max. He spent the rest of the day in your room while you caught him up to speed with everything that had happened while he was away. "Oh and then Anton kissed me at the formal! It was beautiful, Max. He brought me flowers and everything" Max could feel his eyes twitching.

He wanted to be your first kiss. He knew he wouldn't be able to make it to the dance, but he didn't know he'd be losing you that night. "Anton kissed you?" he tried to remain calm. "Yes. Love Me Like You Do was playing, and it was all very romantic. You were right, Max. It was worth the wait. He even asked me out!" He was about to lose it.

Every time you complained that you hadn't had your first kiss yet, Max would ask you to be patient. He wanted to make something of himself before he kissed you and now it backfired on him spectacularly. "You let Anton kiss you?? That wimpy little bastard?" Anton wasn't going to win a beauty pageant any time soon but you liked him. He was your boyfriend.

"Don't call him that, Maxie. I really like him. He's nice to me."

"Yeah sure, did he have to use his inhaler mid-kiss?"

"Max that is so rude! Can you not be a jerk?" You tried your best to reason with him. "No no. I wish you and Anton a happy relationship. Don't come crying to me when you find out his dick is smaller than your pinky." Max stormed out of the room, slamming the door on his way out. He knew he crossed a line. He could hear you crying. He hated the person he was in that room.

I wasted so much time on people that reminded me of you

Gave you a million reasons to walk away

Present Day

He'd been to every jeweller in Monte Carlo. Not a single one of them had a ring that would be worthy of your hand. Max was getting frustrated. He can't screw up the ring. It's the only thing that matters in a proposal. No one ever asks "Can I hear the long lame speech Max said on one knee?", it's always "Can I see the ring?" He sighed as he entered another store, Chaumet. It was supposed to have some unique pieces. The same warm tight smile welcomed him in the store. He explained to the salesperson what he was looking for. He was shown the same basic rings he saw in the last eight shops.

"No. No. No, none of these are good. I'm looking for something unique. Something extraordinary. This person means everything to me and while the ring can never be worthy of her, I want it to try." Max was exasperated. His throat was starting to close up and he looked like he was about to strangle someone. The employee gave a polite smile and went to the back. He returned with a small box.

"This is a pear-cut Amsterdam diamond. It's our rarest piece. This isn't for public display but I think this is exactly what you're looking for." The salesperson had a smirk that was proud yet humble at the same time. Max hesitantly took a closer look at the ring. It wasn't huge but it surely looked rare and exotic, just like you. "I'll take it"

2018

As you've done every year, you showed up to the Kumpen Christmas Dinner. But this time there was a man by your side. Lo and behold, it was Anton. To Max's frustration, Anton had quite the glow-up. He was no longer the skimpy little kid with an inhaler. And Max couldn't bear looking at you look at him like he hung the fucking moon and stars for you. You were supposed to look at Max that way.

"So, Max, how are things in F1 world?" You made polite conversation as you cut your steak. "It's alright," Max replied. "You know, Anton works at Goldman Sachs. Aren't they a sponsor of some Formula One team?" You questioned. "Ah yes. We sponsor Mclaren." Anton smiled. "Maybe you two should visit Max during one of his races next season. Wouldn't that be nice?" Sophie suggested. "Oh, that would be fun! We should plan that, Max." You were excited by the idea.

"I don't know. Christian wouldn't be happy with letting in Mclaren people in the garage."

"We'd come as your friends"

"Yeah, I don't think so." Max stood up dropped his serviette and walked out the door. Of course, it wasn't his first time walking out of a room you were in.

Max knew it was a really bad idea to go to a strip club. He makes bad decisions even when calm and sober, who knows what will happen when he's angry and shit-faced. He was cold from walking in the snow for the last three hours and it was the only place open at 1 am on Christmas Day.

He couldn't see well in the dark but he sort of remembered tipping a stripper €1000 for a lap dance. He was getting angrier by the second. He was losing you by the second and there was nothing he could do to get you. He waited too long and everything slipped away from him. He had officially hit rock bottom.

"Hey, sexy. I'm Y/N. You here all by yourself?" Max thought he was hallucinating. There was no way you were at the strip club. He turned to see a blonde in a baby-blue bodysuit. It wasn't his Y/N. "What's your name?" Max slurred. "It's Y/N. But I can be whatever you want tonight." She started running her finger up his torso. "No. No. I want you to be Y/N." Max got up and dragged her to the private room.

I wanna hold you hair when you drink too much

Carry you home when you cannot stand up

Present Day

It's been a week since Max got the ring. He kept it safely hidden. He couldn't find the perfect moment to pop the question. He wanted everything to be perfect for his perfect girl. He can't mess this up.

2020

"He broke up with me" You stood in front of his flat. Max took a second to process the sight in front of him. You were clearly drunk and had been crying. Your makeup was running down your face. There was a dirty bouquet tightly clutched in your hands. Max simply brought you in and sat you on the couch while he went to grab some wet wipes.

He could hear your quiet sobs from his room. His heart broke to see you like this. He wanted to kill Anton. That motherfucker should've been dead long ago. He was spared for Y/N. Nothing was protecting him now. Max put away those thoughts for a bit and worked on getting you sober.

He walked into the living room. "I threw up." You said staring at the ceiling. There weren't any emotions in your eyes. You looked like a shell of the person you once were. Max carried you to the bathroom. He'd worry about the mess later.

He sat you on the counter and started wiping away your makeup and tears. You soon started to heave and leapt towards the toilet. Max held your hair back as you were throwing up. Part of him knew this was his redemption. This was his chance to make you, his. Unfortunately, he was raised better. He wasn't going to ask you out until he was worthy of you. He discarded those thoughts and carried you to the bed, pulling a duvet over you.

"Maxie, I'm still mad at you for not making it to the formal." He heard you mumble with your eyes still closed. "Me too, schatje. Me too." He whispered and turned off the light.

But I'll build a house out of the mess And all the broken pieces I'll make up for all of your tears

Present Day

Max could barely focus on the slides. He was stuck in an aero meeting, but his thoughts were all on the little black box burning a hole in his pocket. Of course, he carried it to Milton Keynes. He carries it everywhere.

He replayed every scenario where he was an asshole to you. You forgave him every time, but he knew he wasn't worthy of your forgiveness. You were too pure, too sweet for him. One misstep and you'll recoil away from forever. His stomach gurgled and he started sweating. He could feel his heartbeat racing.

"Excuse me." He walked out of the room with the little modesty left in him before sprinting outside. Fresh air and your voice are the only things that could save him now. 

“Hey. It’s me.”

2021

Everything was down to the last lap. This was everything Max had worked for. Every late night, every lashing from his dad, every missed formal, every second he spent away from you. It was all for this very second. As he turned towards Turn 16 in the Yas Marina Circuit, your face was all he could see. The chequered flag waved as he crossed the line. He’s won the 2021 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, he’s won the World Driver’s Championship. Most importantly, he’s won you. He’s finally worthy of you. 

He could not care less about the controversy surrounding his win. He parked his car in the No. 1 spot and ran towards his team. This was his moment, he wasn’t going to let some legal altercations take it away from him. 

He spotted you in the crowd from the podium, you were crying and screaming the Dutch National Anthem. After the champagne, he chucked the trophy at his physio and ran to you. He wasn’t going to wait anymore. No more missing anything. He was all yours if you had him. 

You were waiting for him near the Red Bull garage. “Y/N. I need to talk to you.” Before you could reply, he pulled you aside. “I’ve waited long enough. I spent the last 21 years making a better man of myself. I don’t know if that cancels out on all the times I’ve been rude and insensitive to you. But schatje, I promise, from this second I will do everything in my ability to make myself worthy of you and your love.” 

I promise, darling, you won't regret The best years I'll give you the best years

Present Day

You were gonna come home any minute. Max had spent the entire day cleaning the house and cleaning it again. He even pulled out some Christmas lights and decorated the living room. “Maybe I should light some candles” He wondered out loud. Jimmy jumped onto the sofa from nowhere, scaring Max and negating the candle idea. 

When he said he was going to ask you to marry him in your house, his friends and family considered it a bit unromantic. His mum and sister went as far as sending him blogs titled “Top 10 romantic spots to get engaged” But this house was more than just a house, it was home. The pair of you carefully curated and constructed this house, making it your very own. 

The Smart Home system alerted Max that there was movement in the garage. You were here. He did a quick sweep of the room and sighed. He wasn’t sure if the sigh was out of anxiety or happiness, but he was going to find out in about 5 minutes.

The front door opened. “Max. I’m home.” You called out like you did every day. You placed your keys on the little Lighting McQueen and Sally key stand on the wall. Sassy was already nudging at your legs begging for attention. “Hey, girly. Where’s daddy?” You cooed. The house was a little too quiet. Maybe Max was in the sim room. You walked to the living room and turned the lights on. 

“What the fuck?” were the first words to come out of your mouth when you saw the entire room glowing with Christmas Lights and Max on one knee in the middle of the room. You must be asleep. There is no way this is happening. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi.” You started to tear up.

“Y/N. I’ve given you a million reasons to hesitate, a million reasons to walk away. Yet you stayed by me, every single time. I couldn’t ask for a better friend, a better lover and a better wife to spend the rest of my life with. I’ve wasted so much time on people that reminded me of you when I should’ve been by your side. I want to hold your hand as we grow old. I want to carry you home when you cannot stand up. You did all those things for me when I was half a man for you. But darling, I promise, I’ll give you the best years. Will you marry me?” 

“Yes, Max. I want to marry you.”

A/N: Ahh!! The first fic is out now!! I truly enjoyed writing this. If you saw this being posted on Nov 2 instead of Nov 1, as per schedule, turn the other way pls thanks. Oscar x English Love Affair is next. See you all on November 8. Send an ask to be added to the taglist.

Love, Abby x

taglist: @evermoreandroyalblue  @stelena-klayley @honethatty12 @pippyth3hippy

[chrispydreams]

I fear.. my type might just be "coolest youngest in the group"

[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.”

⊹ ₊ ⟡ ⋆

[carryonafi]

hi my sweet baby angel— been thinkin about fonda!luke a lot recently… was wondering if you could write a little cute/smutty ‘i’m so fuckin proud of you’ blurb that takes place after his ono? do whatever you want with it, i know you’ll do great bby <3

only the brave.

luke hemmings x reader; SMUT!!!🔞

a/n: HELLO finally getting to some requests! starting with one from my dear souperbloom 😋 she’s already gotten a few little snippets but shh we don’t talk about that. ANYWAY here’s only the brave featuring fonda night 1 lukey pookie :3

words: 2.6k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Luke was always in his element when he performed, but it was always surrounded by the others that he shone. Knowing him, you would have never thought he could have done this on his own. Not that you didn’t have the faith, but it was how often he spoke about feeling alone when he wasn’t standing by his best friends.You were currently standing backstage with him, in the dressing room before his first ever solo show with a full house of guests and the next night hopefully bound to be a wonderful repeat due to the unexpected high demand of the first night.

“How do you feel?” You said softly, the room silent other than the outside noises of the crew moving around the pre-show playlist in the background.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” Luke sighed, tipping his head back against the door, he did look sort of pale, but he usually seemed that way.

The look on his face softened a bit once you reached out to take his hands.

“You’ll be okay… do your vocal warmups. That helps doesn’t it?” A weak suggestion, but it was a thoughtful attempt that made Luke crack a smile.

“I dunno.” He admitted, his expression turning back to normal once he really started to think again. You could understand how he felt, knowing him for years and seeing how much stage anxiety he went through even with the others around.

“They’re gonna be watching too, y’know? All you have to do is look up at the balcony.” As much as you tried to make him feel better, you knew that nothing would truly ease him. The thought of looking up to see you and his best friends made him feel a little bit better for the moment, that was until a crew member shouted for call time. Luke’s face dropped again.

“You’re going to be amazing, okay? You always are.” You offered a weak smile, getting one back as Luke leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

He looked like he was about to say something in reply, but instead, he bit his tongue and took the encouragement instead of plaguing it with his doubts. “Thank you.” He said gratefully, leading you out of the dressing room and parting ways once he got to the wings and you left to join the crowd.

The lights went down and the last song on the playlist ended, you took a deep breath suddenly feeling anxious for Luke now as well — but as you said. He was always amazing.

Security walked you up to the balcony, a few stray fans at the back of the general admission floor whispered to themselves and happily waved as you walked by and made your way up to where the others were standing. Michael turned around as he felt your presence join them, giving you a look through the darkness.

“He’s okay?” He asked, seemingly responding to the anxiety taking over your entire expression.

“He should be, just nervous to be up there without you guys.” You gave him the simplest answer possible, knowing how it described the last hour or so of sitting in the dressing room and trying to talk Luke down from walking straight back out to the car… or throwing up. He was very close to both of those scenarios.

—

Just as you told him, all of that encouragement and gentle words to get his hopes up, he played a really good show and seemed to be feeling incredible by the end of it. You left the rest of Luke’s friends just at the end of the last song so you could meet him backstage, and it was the best decision you could’ve made. It was obvious that he needed to see you after that.

He picked up his head once he tossed his last pick into the crowd and headed backstage, a smile gracing his features illuminated by the few and far bright lights in the otherwise dark venue. It was too hard to resist the temptation to smile as well, rushing forward and throwing yourself into his arms.

“See, you did amazing!” You squealed happily against his shoulder, Luke’s heart was racing and you could feel it relax significantly as you stood there and held him for a moment. He breathed out a long sigh of relief, nearly tearing his in-ears out with one hand while the other snaked around your waist to hold you tight. He needed this. He needed nothing more than your arms enveloping his physical worries and making him feel like he just won the Olympics.

“Thank you… Thank you so much.” Luke whispered against your hair, pressing repeated kisses to the side of your head and not stopping even when you tilted your head to look at him. Instead he just went with it, kissing your face until he finally reached your lips. He teased a little, kissing the corner of your mouth which had you giggling and grabbing his cheeks so he couldn’t move. You planted an aggressively loving kiss to his lips, the sensation of his growing smile making it hard to hold it.

“I’m very proud of you, so fuckin’ proud of you, Luke.” You replied in that same tone he used earlier, a wider grin spreading across Luke’s face as he started to walk you backwards towards the dressing room again.

“Don’t think I could’ve done it without you.” He muttered like it was a secret, quickly pecking your lips once more with his hands splayed out on your back so you didn’t walk into anything.

“Bullshit.” You scrunched up your nose, Luke shook his head then turned you around.

“No, no. I definitely couldn’t have.” He played back despite your protest, leading you into the small room and closing the door.

You sat on one side of the small sofa while Luke shed himself of his gear and slipped off his suit jacket which left him in the matching brown vest, your eyes roamed, scanned each little part of his body. His wrists shoulder blades flexing as he tried to rid the exhaustion of performing which was mostly masked by adrenaline. Luke saw you in the mirror, smiling back at you as a simple wave of your hand gestured for him to come closer. He didn’t let a beat go by, he obeyed and slowly approached you.

“Wanna go back home, or sit and decompress for a while?” You asked, placing your legs in his lap and playing with his sweaty curls.

“Mm, decompress. Don’t wanna move.” He hummed, an arm curling under your thighs and pulling you closer to him. Even past the warmth and exertion, he needed to feel you. Your warmth.

The dressing room was quiet, peaceful as Luke came down and basked in his glory of a first solo performance. Usually, there would be some sort of music playing, 3 other guys messing around and celebrating yet another amazing night… but it was just Luke. You and Luke.

“I’m proud of you.” You repeated, catching Luke’s attention away from the loose thread in your outfit. His lips quirked into a crooked smile, the smile that made the high points of his cheeks glow with joy. He thought for a moment before nodding, gently squeezing your thigh.

“I’m proud of me, too.” Luke agreed, the glitter smeared across his eyelids had managed to spread on his face. You reached forward to brush some away, but he took this opportunity to catch your waiting lips in another soft kiss.

Your hand moved slowly on his cheek, fingertips catching the underside of his jaw and keeping him close for just a fleeting second more. Until your lips broke apart, it wasn’t known who did it, but all you knew was that Luke was leaning in for more. His lips were forced against yours again with much more, newfound fervor as his free arm hooked around your middle.

It was nearly silent from there on, just gentle kissing and featherlight touches which spoke more volume than any rough make out session, any bedroom session — the adrenaline pumping through Luke’s veins and the events of the night had him on a high.

“C’mere…” He murmured against your kiss-swollen lips, a pout on his own as he hoisted you into his lap and nearly forced you to straddle him.

“Really?” You teased, letting out a breathy laugh as Luke licked his lips and admired his own hands exploring your body. Slipping into the waistband of your bottoms and watching the goosebumps form on your skin at his warmth.

“We’ve never done this after a show before, please?” He pleaded, looking up at you through mascara coated eyelashes which pushed you to give into him.

“As long as you can make it quick.” You hushed in response, just as Luke’s hands disappeared under your skirt and delicately brushed the soft skin of your inner thighs. He nodded, slowly taking his hands off of you to unbutton those annoying, high waisted slacks that he had really been obsessed with. They were hard to shuffle down with you in his lap, so you decided to help him out by lifting your hips a little.

“Made it easy by wearing that..” Luke gave as an affectionate note, making it clear that the skirt was a good option— a great option.

“Easy access?” You grinned, his pupils dilating at the sight of your underwear slowly slipping down your legs and leaving the underneath to his imagination beneath the skirt, Luke hummed in agreement, his hands returning to spread themselves across your hips and bring you even closer. It was barely possible.

“You’re annoying.” He whispered, his eyes turning soft and desperate as your hips came into contact.

“What? How so?” You gasped, tone full of mirth as you witnessed Luke slowly losing control over being so close to you. Every single time, without fail he was always going to get to that breaking point of desperation and you loved it.

“You jus’ have to look so pretty all the time, it’s annoying — I gotta hold it all in.” Luke replied, moving forward to bury his face in your neck and leave needy, wet kisses on your skin. “Have t’ share you with everyone… they all look at you, baby.” He rambled into your neck, lips and tongue dragging over your skin in a soft haste to get to his favorite parts of you. Luke ended his trail of destruction with one gentle kiss to your chest, right above the center where he rested his curly little head in defeat. Defeat of falling victim to you.

“Don’t have to share me with anyone, silly boy.” You laughed, hands carding through his hair and massaging his dark roots. “I’m all yours.” You said gently, careful of Luke’s fragile mind where he often struggled.

However, you were caught off guard by the switch he took. Luke peeked his head up, pushing up into your hands like he was a puppy desperate for love, but slipped himself inside you in one flawless motion. It left you breathless, Luke beaming with satisfaction as you took him.

“All mine?” He breathed, ring-clad fingers tightening on your hips and indenting the flesh beneath his hands. All that came out of you was a weak sigh of pleasure, coaxing you to sink down further and devour inch by inch. Luke was waiting for an answer, so you nodded and hummed appreciatively which seemed to be more than enough for him. His hips slowly started to move, leaning back against the couch to watch the obscenity before him. Anyone could walk into this dressing room, anyone could see you perched on his lap and know within seconds what was going on under the fluff of your skirt. Just the sounds you were making with each caring and generous roll of his hips had him imagining the scenarios of someone hearing you. It was a low chance, but hell, was it daunting.

“So.. So goddamn proud.” You looked down at Luke, admiring how he had reached and let one button on his vest go to expose more of his chest.

“Uh huh, you’re proud?” He raised his eyebrows, the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing picked up driving you both just a little more crazy for each other.

The simplicity of your nod made Luke smile, knowing that he had taken your words away and left you so focused on the rhythm he had pumping in and out of you. But he was close too, losing control but not nearly as weak as you.

“Luke!” You gasped when his pace changed, he was now focused on chasing his own pleasure once he was secure in the fact that you would be finishing before him. This made it all come crashing down, little pulses and shocks through your nerves, thighs twitching as you clamped down hard and bit your knuckles to keep yourself quiet.

“Hey…” Luke breathed, taking your hand away from your mouth as your orgasm smoothly washed over you. “Don’t hurt my girl.” He gave you a crooked half-smile, his hips stuttering which told that he was there. Right there, letting out that deep groan and leaning forward to press his face against your collarbone as he pumped deep inside you, His curls tickled your neck, slicked with sweat from the activities within the humid dressing room.

It was about two minutes until you each didn’t feel like jello anymore, you felt a smile of post-orgasm bliss creeping up on you which turned into giggles.

“Fuckin’ love you so much.” You sighed dreamily, tangling a hand in Luke’s hair and gently coaxing him to look up at you. The glitter from his eyes was now on your neck, and somehow his nose— you examined his flushed face with care and graced a loving peck to his nose.

“Love you more.” Luke barely managed past his own smile, waiting a few more moments to spare the gentle touches and soft kisses from you. It felt like so long until he could finally get you home… but home was just half an hour away, more of those kisses in a much better environment were waiting for him. “This was a really great reward,” he mumbled, shy like some schoolboy.

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled, mindlessly fixing the buttons of his vest and watching as he returned to picking at some loose thread on your top. Luke nodded, giving you the loving eyes shielded by his impressively long eyelashes. “Imagine what kind of reward you’ll get when you finish a solo tour.”

“I can’t even begin.” Luke grinned back, hoisting you up from the couch once you were all situated and ready to face as many people as you possibly needed to. Hopefully not a lot, if Luke was counting right. Security, staff, driver…

“There’s fans waiting out back, wanna go see them?” You suggested, grasping Luke’s hand as you headed out of the venue and strides hastily through the backstage halls. You knew what Luke’s answer was going to be, the hesitance to go back and show his fans some appreciation would be the nice thing to do. However, tomorrow was another show. They could wait and have some hope for him until the next night.

“Nah, just wanna go home.” He admitted, blinking down at you in the dim light to adjust and focus clearly on your face. You were now also covered in his glitter, and it was truly a sight for him. One that he would be sad to wash off at home, but maybe there was more in it for him if he was extra gentle with your cleanser.

[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

[33-81]

what your camera roll would look like when you're dating ashton

[storiesforallfandoms]

cover me ~ ashton irwin

word count: 1908

request?: yes!

“okay but ashton irwin size kink smut. like that man is over a foot taller than me and omg i would kill to be underneath him. like him manhandling you, picking you up over his shoulder and throwing you on the bed. i need it like i need oxygen, more than ever. so please”

description: in which his girlfriend is so much smaller than him, and they both get off on it

pairing: ashton irwin x small!female!reader

warnings: rpf, swearing, pet names (princess, baby), smut (unprotected p in v, fingering, oral m receiving, tummy bulge, references to other sexual activity but nothing in heavy detail), reader is described as being smaller than ash so i apologize if that is not your body type i usually try to be more vague for my fics but this was a request!

masterlist (one, two, three)

Ashton was obsessed with how much bigger he was than you.

At first, he just thought it was adorable. He stood at least a foot taller than you, and he loved to pick you up or give you piggyback rides. When he realized how much bigger his hands were, he teased you about it constantly. He’d put stuff on the top shelf just to watch you struggle to reach it, or so you’d have to ask him to get it for you.

He thought it was adorable and hilarious, until he realized how hot it was.

He could pick you up and fuck you senseless against the wall. His large hands could wrap effortlessly around your throat as he pounded you into the mattress. And occasionally there was a bulge in your tummy when he would bury himself completely inside of you that drove him absolutely wild.

When he realized how hot he found your small size, he just couldn’t stop himself from grabbing you whenever he was feeling needy. If you were in another room, he’d just pick you up effortlessly and carry you to your shared bedroom. Or he’d bend you over the armrest of the couch and make you stand on the tips of your toes so your pussy was the same height as his cock. Or he’d get you in the shower and pick you up to fuck you against the tile wall.

He was a horny bastard, and he’d be the first person to admit that.

It wasn’t always Ashton’s fault, though. You loved to tease him until he had no choice but to fuck you senseless.

Like the day you were at work and he was home, and you decided to tease him through text the whole day.

It started with an innocent enough picture in your work outfit, but you were wearing the skirt that Ashton went crazy for. For good measure, you had pulled it up a bit just for the picture, to make it look shorter. When he responded the way you had wanted him to, you followed up with a dirty text. You had him hooked, and you didn’t stop until you got into your car to drive home.

The second you walked through the door, you found yourself shoved up against the door and Ashton’s hand around your throat. He was squeezing just enough to make you feel lightheaded.

“You naughty girl,” he said, his voice husky with lust. “Do you know how difficult you made my day? I couldn’t get anything done because all I could think of was bending you over in this skirt.”

You squeaked as he slipped his other hand under your skirt. He ran his middle finger over your clothed clit. You whimpered.

“You’re already so wet,” he said. “Have you been fantasizing about having my cock all day? Is that why you were teasing me while you were at work?”

You nodded, but he squeezed your throat a little more. “Use your words.”

“Yes,” you whimpered as he relieved some of the pressure on your throat. “Yes, Ash.”

He was smirking. “You naughty, naughty girl.”

You gasped as he slipped a finger under the lace of your panties and started to run it through your folds. You moaned as he applied pressure to your clit and rubbed agonizingly slow circles. You were becoming lightheaded from the pressure he was applying to your throat, and that was making the feeling of him working on your clit more intense.

He slipped a finger into you and you cried out in pleasure. With your eyes screwed shut from the pleasure, you couldn’t see the look of satisfaction on Ashton’s face. He loved how good he could make you feel, especially when it was just with his fingers.

“Does it feel good, baby?” he asked. “Do you like these big fingers inside your little pussy?”

“Yes!” you cried out. “Fuck yes, Ash, it feels so good!”

He added a second finger, stretching you further. He curled his fingers to stimulate that soft spot inside of you that made you start to see stars.

Your first orgasm hit you without warning. You started to tremble and your vision went white as you clenched around him. You went slack in his arms as your body went numb. Ashton pulled his fingers from you and took hold of you so you wouldn’t fall. You tried to stand on your own, but your legs were too weak. Ashton picked you up to carry you to the bedroom. He laid you down gently onto the bed and pulled your skirt and panties off at one time. You could see the outline of his boner fighting against his sweatpants. You sat up to tug at the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them and his boxers down just enough for his hard cock to spring free.

He ran a hand through your hair. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and asked, “Can I suck you dick, Ash? Please?”

He groaned in response and pulled your head towards him. You took his cock in your hand and pumped him a few times before wrapping your mouth around the tip. You ran your tongue around the head just as slowly as he had been touching your clit early. His breathing was already becoming staggered as you did, and the hand that was resting in your hair still was starting to grasp at the strands. Slowly you started to take more of his length into his mouth. You didn’t want to over do it just yet, but Ashton involuntarily bucked his hips forward in pleasure and drove his cock into the back of your throat. You gagged and pulled off of him quickly.

“Awe, my little princess,” he cooed. “Can’t even fit this big dick in her little mouth. How are you going to fit all of it in your pussy?”

You ignored his comment and took him in your mouth again. You knew you wouldn’t be able to take the full of him, but something about his comment made you want to take as much as you could possibly handle. You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, pumping whatever of his length that you couldn’t take in your mouth as you began to bob your head at the same time. Ashton threw his head back and groaned into the empty room, completely taken with the way your mouth felt around him. It was one of his most favorite feelings in the world, second only to the feeling of being buried balls deep inside of you.

You didn’t have him in your mouth for long before he was pulling at your hair, taking you completely off of him and pulling you into a kiss. It was sloppy and quick, and soon enough he was pushing you back down onto the bed.

“I can’t do any more teasing,” he said. “I need you.”

You stripped off your shirt and bra, and he took off his own shirt and kicked his sweatpants and boxers somewhere onto the floor. He climbed onto the bed, towering over you. You remembered how intimidated you felt seeing him like this for the first time. You knew Ashton was anything but intimidating or scary, but his height made it feel like he was towering over you. Not to mention the size of his cock actually had you worried at the time that he wouldn’t fit.

Now, though, the sight of him kneeling over you, his cock red and stood at full attention, was an extreme turn on.

He lined himself up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds to collect the moisture that was left from your orgasm. He pushed into you slowly, giving you time to adjust to every inch of him. One of your hands was gripping at the sheets beneath you, while the other was holding onto Ashton’s hand. He watched as he disappeared inside of you until his pelvic bone was pressing against your clit. He leaned down to kiss you, his entire body covering yours.

His thrusts started slow as he buried his head into the crook of your neck. He placed small kisses over your neck and collarbone. Each inwards thrust made his pelvic bone brush against your clit in a way that sent shocks of pleasure through your body. You could feel the pressure slowly building up in your stomach. While you didn’t want to cum again just yet, it was almost frustrating how slowly it was starting to build. You wanted to chase that high quickly once it had started.

Ashton pulled away from you to sit up on his kneels. He pressed a hand against your stomach and you gasped at the feeling.

“God, I love when I can see the bulge,” he said, looking down at where your bodies were connected. “Can you feel me deep in your guts, princess?”

“Y-Yes,” you breathed. “God, Ash, it feels so good. I’m getting so close.”

“Cum for me, princess. Let me feel you tightening around my cock.”

He pressed his thumb against your clit and started to rub circles until the pressure in your stomach became too much. You called his name as you felt yourself cumming again, this one somehow more intense than the first. Ashton groaned at the feeling of you squeezing his cock and it was enough for him to hit his climax, too. He buried himself completely inside of you as he spilled his seed into you. You were both panting messes as he slumped on top of you.

You giggled and pushed at him. “Ash, you’re going to crush me.”

“Can’t move. Feel too good,” he responded.

“You won’t feel good if you crush me to death.”

He pushed himself up on his elbows to hover over you. “I wouldn’t crush you to death. You’re dramatic.”

“Try having someone who’s basically twice your size lay their full weight on top of you, then tell me I’m being dramatic.” You sat up a little to kiss his nose before flopping back down onto the bed.

Ashton reluctantly pulled himself from you. You couldn’t help but pout from the empty feeling as he did so. He got up and went to the bathroom to get you both clothes to clean up with. He passed you yours, still nice and warm from the sink, and you quickly wiped yourself down. You grabbed his shirt from the floor and pulled it on while he pulled on his boxers.

“So,” he said, “got what you wanted, then? That was the idea behind sending the naughty texts?”

You grinned slyly at him. “Well, I did expect you to fuck me until I couldn’t stand, but I also just felt like being in a teasing mood.”

“I can’t believe you wore the skirt. I love that skirt. That skirt was supposed to be for me to see and me only.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back down onto the bed with you. “Other people may have seen it, but just remember you’re the only one allowed to bend me over in it.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your head. “That does make me very happy to think about. I may do that later once we’re both in the mood for round two, since I didn’t get a chance when you came home.”

[youngxcalm]

i love

[sunshine-daisies-library]

starry eyed lies | ashton irwin x pop star!reader

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

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

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

word count: 11.0k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And a heart attack,” Ashton deadpanned. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ash-” Calum said meekly.

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

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

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

“Hi guys,” you weakly greeted them. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s up with her?” Shane asked.

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

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

“I know right?”

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

#y/nl/nisoverparty

#y/nl/nisasnake

#y/nisthebiggestbitch

#y/nl/nisOVER

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

– 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You felt your Ashton. 

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

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

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

“What are you–” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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[valentiyne]

𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌 & 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒 𝗆𝖾𝖽𝖺𝗅𝗌 ☆ 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗎𝗆 𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽

Calum Hood x Famous!Reader Summary: Requested! After 4 years of agreed no contact, one phone call and song takes back all that you've worked for. Warnings: Mild Cursing, Slight of Explicit Content. Word Count: 1k (not rlly proofread lol) Copyright © 2023 Valentiyne. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻

"So, Y/n tell us more about Calum Hood"

A name I hadn't heard in exactly 4 years to the very date.

48 months, 1461 days, and 35040 excruciating long fucking hours.

My face immediately lights up at the name nevertheless, brushing my hair behind my ear nervously,

"Hood? I'm not quite sure what this has to do with my upcoming EP coming out at midnight", I breathlessly laugh out, my eyes locking with the interviewer in front of me. My new work titled, "Bittersweet" was launching at midnight, only containing 4 songs to go along with the 4 bittersweet years I've spent away from him. It was hopeless of me to write about him, but he was the only source of inspiration I could find.

"Well you two had a bit of chemistry as far as we know, is that right?"

Sure we did. We spent over 6 years together on and off, but always came back to each other. He was my rock, my everything, but ultimately we knew it wasn't going to work out.

"Sure we did, I mean it was nothing but a mere innocent crush", I cross my legs now, my shaky hands clasped on top of my knees. The crowd was silent as excited fans packed into the small room to hear the soft launch before midnight.

"Well it was surely more than innocent", she motions to the screen next to us. "This picture was taken four years ago in Bali during the second leg of their tour", I mentally roll my eyes but smile anyway. A few people from the crowd squealed as the iconic picture of us in cuddled up on the beach was displayed, the same one he posted himself as an excuse to have me on his page.

"Like I said- It was a small crush" I was trying to convince myself more than everyone else.

I watch as the slideshow continues on, the screen filled with every single moment in time that Calum and I were spotted together across the world. A few innocent ones of us walking next to each other, to one taken on the balcony of a hotel. We were just kids who didn't know what they were doing- lost in the moment together. He will always have a place in my heart. When things ultimately ended, we both agreed to never speak again- it was only weighing each other down.

"Well I thank you for your time, I hope everyone enjoys the album and finds some comfort in the chaos", I stand up abruptly, extending my hand to shake the interviewer's hand. The crowd cheered quietly as I walked off the stage with a slight wave. I needed to get out of here, I felt like a complete idiot working myself up over someone that I no longer talked to.

I slipped past the stage crew as I shuffled out past the backdoors and towards the parking lot, my fingers fumbling with my keys as I tore my driver's door open and plopped down dramatically. The door shut behind me and I sighed to myself loudly,

That was fucking ridiculous, they didn't even ask anything about me. Just about someone I never wanted to mention. Of course, I could talk about him until the end of time, but it wasn't my place to do so anymore. He was playing sold-out shows every other day and had no worry about a girl back home who happened to have matching tattoos with him, right? The tattoo we shared was of a small flower underneath our ribs, the same flower he gave me on our one-year "situationshipversary" as he called it. It was a silly gesture that I treasured, the California wildflower that he pulled over on the side of the Pacific Coast Highway to pick during peak traffic on the way to my house. It now lay inside a small glass bottle hung around my neck, all wilted like our history.

I pull my phone from my purse, scrolling down to the bottom of my contact list, and clicking on the "DO NOT CALL!!!!" number. I hesitantly dial his number and bring it up to my ear,

"Hey! You reached Calum, I'm away from my phone right now but leave a message!", He declined it immediately, either that or his phone was dead. Not quite sure which one makes me feel better. I roll my eyes at the stupid prepubescent voice and turn my phone off.

I tossed my phone down onto my lap and leaned my head against the wheel. I subconsciously wanted to log back into my Instagram and scroll down an update page to find out anything about him. I had no idea what he was up to or who he was with, it's been years since I've last heard his voice.

"You know this isn't good for either of us, Y/n", he rang through my head as I remember standing on his porch in late July.

"Calum, we've been through this so many times- why can't we just try?"

He runs his hand through his freshly cut hair and shakes his head, "It never ends well, I feel like a fucking lost dog who always limps its way back to you.. I just- Fuck- I can't do thi-"

The last thing I remember was the door closing in my face, leaving me all alone with no closure. I could hear him on the other side, a thump on the door indicating he was leaning against it. I tried for the handle, jiggling it a few times before banging on it, begging for him to talk to me. I couldn't stay mad at him forever, as much as I wanted to. I wanted to scream at him, slap him in his beautiful face, and kiss him all at once.

My phone vibrating snapped me out of my thoughts and I looked down,

DO NOT CALL!!!!

My heart skips a beat, staring at my phone on my lap buzzing away. I bit my lip softly, pulling it closer to my face as I accepted the FaceTime call.

The camera was pointing to the ceiling when I answered, his voice booming loudly as he spoke.

"Hello?"

I let let a breath I didn't know I was holding, trying to gather the right words to say. What was I supposed to say after all this time?

"Cal?", my voice is softer than I had hoped for, the word slipping past my lip like it's begging to finally be let out.

"Holy shit", the camera shifts and he props it up against the wall, waving at me with one hand. Calum sits in his studio chair with his old bass in his lap, headphones pushed back against his long curly hair. His eyes are wide as he raises an eyebrow, "Shit, long time no see."

I adjust the camera against my steering wheel and scoot my seat back, allowing for a better view of myself as I smile innocently with an awkward wave. "Hi Cal, how ya been?" I see his eyes travel down to the necklace around my neck, my fingers dancing around the bottle as I speak.

"Shit, Y/n if I'd known it was you calling I would've answered way faster, I just had deleted your number-", he stops himself, looking up with a sympathetic crooked smile before sighing. I raise a hand up to reassure him instead, "Calum", god saying his name tugs at my heartstrings, "It's okay, I get it... we don't have to dance around it.. now what are you up to?"

He was lying, Calum hood was bluffing to my face and I had no idea. After all this time, he still had my contact listed as "My wildflower", but he couldn't dare admit to me that he didn't answer sooner because he was scared.

Scared of what I was going to say

Scared id tell him I found someone new

Scared of seeing or hearing me again

"I'm actually working on a song right now", he laughs and holds the iconic bass up, a small spot right under the strings that once had a star sticker I placed on it- now scraped off.

I make a face, reminding myself that that was the past and I shouldn't dwell on it too much, but seeing him happier without me didn't make me feel like I thought it would. A part of me wished he was as miserable as I was, cooped up in my room writing stupid songs that were confessing my raw feelings.

"What's it about?", I chirp up as he bends down to play a few notes on the keyboard next to him, assuming it's the intro.

"It's about someone that was in my life, uh someone you don't know- she came around afterward", he says slowly, not meeting my eyes through the screen. I just nod in agreement, opening my mouth to speak.

"Would you like to come over for dinner sometime this week?", The words flow out before I had time to think about it. As I wait for his response, I pick at my nails- a habit he absolutely hated. He would smack my hand out of my mouth every chance we were together, telling me "I'd get worms in my belly" I did stop for a while, but my bitten nails were the only reminder he was actually gone.

"Yeah, I would love to!- Look I'll let you go but we'll keep in touch alright?", He speaks quickly, his hand flying down in one swift movement. With that, he ends the FaceTime call and I'm left looking at my reflection. I looked dumbfounded, smiling to myself as wide as I could.

I couldn't let myself fall for this again, for him- we both knew it wasn't going to end well for either of us. But hell it's been 4 years and I've changed as a person, and by the looks of it, he has too.

My phone buzzed once, twice, and then three before I looked back up at it to see three new messages from none other than Hood.

DO NOT CALL!!!!: I kinda lied, you do know the person I wrote it about

DO NOT CALL!!!!: mp3.wildflower.calumdemo.rec

DO NOT CALL!!!!: my wildflower ;)

[prettymonegasque]

5 Seconds of Formula One Masterlist

Formula One x 5 Seconds of Summer

Max Verstappen x Best Years

I'll make up for all your tears - November 2

Oscar Piastri x English Love Affair

A Hideaway in Mayfair - November 8

Charles Leclerc x Older

One-Way Ticket for 2 - November 15

Carlos Sainz Jr x Money

Take my money - November 22

Lewis Hamilton x Ghost of You

Too Young Too Dumb - November 29

Send an ask to be added to the taglist!

[calumsrockstar]

Bunny - Ashton Irwin

a/n: DADDY ISSUES NATION RISE! This is my longest fic until now, and it´s inspired by @rip-quizilla.

word count: 3k

Where you find a mysterious hot neighbor.

Contents: MAJOR AGE GAP (reader is 19 and Ash is 44), perv!ash, spanking, pet names, praise, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m recieving) masturbation (f and m), corruption kink, daddy kink

Older!Ash x Reader

You entered your brand new house, it was small, but spacious considering it was your first. Your mom and your dad finally let you move out, giving you all the privacy you needed.

For the first month everything was normal, until you heard almost every mom in the neighborhood talk about a handsome and mysterious Mr. Irwin. Only to notice that he was living right next to you.

You were curious, since moving to the neighborhood, you´ve never seen what he looked like, your window was right opposite his, but he always kept the curtain closed.

Adjusting yourself, you looked at the mirror and flattened your yellow sundress. It was a hot summer day, and what better way to quench your thirst than to deliver lemonade to your supposedly hot neighbor?

You opened the fridge to get a large jug of your homemade lemonade, and left the house, leaving the front door unlocked.

Walking to his house, you took deep breaths, and knocked on the door. Now you wait.....

A tall man opened the door, looking to be in his 20s. His light brown hair looked soft and curly. his skin sunkissed. "Hi there." He smiled. Making you forget why you were there.

Holy shit.

"Um-hi." You smiled. "I moved here a month ago and I ́ve never said hello, I decided to bring you some lemonade. Some friendly neighbor activity." You chuckled.

He looked you up and down, basically devouring you with his eyes. "That's awfully kind of you." You detected some kind of accent. "It 's no problem." You replied.

"Sorry if this is too direct but, how come i´ve never seen you before?" You asked him. "At my age, I don't go out of my house much honey, I like to read, play music." You raised an eyebrow. "Your age? Like 25?"

He let out a throaty laugh. "You flatter me." Making you smile. "How old are you?" You asked. "If you don't mind me asking of course." He grinned. "Guess."

"28?" He shook his head no. "30?" He shook his head no again. "35?" You asked, hoping you didn't say he was too old. "More." He grinned. "No fucking way." You replied. "40?" He clicked his tongue. "You're getting closer." Your mouth was practically on the floor. "I´m 44, sweetheart."

"What? That's insane." You smiled. "You definitely don't look or act 44." You said. "Hey, how is a 44 year old supposed to act?" He chuckled. "I don´t know, smoking cigars on your front porch, maybe?" You smiled. "I´m young at heart, you know." He leaned down to talk to you.

"How old are you, little lady?" He grinned. "I'm 19." He widened his hazel eyes. "19, wow. Basically a baby." You fake pouted. "I'm not a baby." You smiled, teasingly. "You are to me." He replied. You frowned. Did he actually think of you as a kid?

"What´s a young girl like you doing living all by herself?" He asked. "I just moved out, I wanted some privacy." You replied, making him raise an eyebrow. "Privacy, huh? You sure you´re not gonna throw any parties?"

You laughed. "That's not what all kids do these days, by the way. Maybe in your time, Mr. Irwin." You put your hand on your forehead. "That was rude, i´m sorry." He laughed. "How do you know my last name?" He smiled.

You turned pink. "Well, you must know that women talk about you." He raised an eyebrow. "Do they?" He chuckled. "Yeah, all the time." You replied.

"Can you tell me what they say?" He smiled, making you turn an even deeper shade of red. "Well, they all say you're really handsome and stuff... And how they wonder if you have a wife." You smiled. "No, I don't have one, sweetheart." He grinned.

Oh god yes.

"Oh, that's good to know. I mean, that's cool." You stuttered. Making him chuckle. "Well, I guess I´ll see you around, Mr. Irwin." You said turning your back. "Please, call me Ashton." He blurted out. "What's your name?" He asked. "It´s y/n." You smiled. "Nice to meet you y/n." I hope to see you soon." You looked over your shoulder and nodded.

When you turned around, Ashton couldn't help but look at your ass. It was sculpted and it drove him crazy. He could tell you were definitely trouble.

Ashton closed the door, and smiled. You were the only thing he could think of for hours. He wanted to get to know you, to know what your interests were, your life. He already was utterly obsessed. He felt like a teenager again, with hormones blossoming inside of him.

You were sweet and innocent, like a bunny. Something deep inside him wanted to ruin you.

You could not help thinking of him too. His tattooed arms, his curly hair, how his tank top hugged every place of him. How his shorts were tight around his bulge.

Shit. You wanted to fuck your 44 year old neighbor.

Ashton let his curiosity get the best of him. He finally opened his office window, to see if he could peek inside your house. Fortunately for him, this was the window directly opposite your bedroom.

After a long day, you decided to go to your bedroom to relax. Kicking off your shoes and getting out of your sundress. It was hot, so you absentmindedly left your bedroom window open, not knowing you had a spectator.

"Holy fuck." Ashton thought, his jaw was on the ground. You were wearing a lacy pink underwear set. The dim lighting in your room made you look ethereal.

Ashton was getting harder by the second. He knew this was wrong. Spying on his innocent little neighbor. But at this moment, he could care less.

You took off your bra, slowly. Ashton watched your breasts slip out of them, he thought he was dreaming. You were the most beautiful girl he's ever seen.

You reached in your bedroom drawer and found a pretty pink vibrator that you've stashed there. You laid down, tracing circles over your panties with the vibrator, letting out little whimpers.

"No fucking way." Ashton mouthed. He couldn't take it anymore. He took his cock out of his pants, bubbling with pre-cum. He felt like a pervert, but this turned him on even more.

Little y/n wasn't as innocent as he thought.

Taking off your panties, your pussy was on full display. Making Ashton´s mouth water.

You pressed the vibrator on your clit while you inserted two fingers inside of yourself, curling them. The shock made your back lift off the mattress, with a moan so loud you were sure your neighbor could hear.

All you wanted was Ashton. You wished his fingers were inside of you, you wished he was fucking you.

Ashton started to rub himself, watching intently. So what if you saw? He thought. His cock was throbbing, he was desperate to be inside you. Every muscle in his body ached for you.

You started to squirm, your clit throbbing with pulsing sensations that made you convulse in bed. While Ashton was shivering. This is the most turned on he´s been ever.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck." You moaned while you bit your lip, feeling that familiar feeling in your stomach. Ashton started fucking his fist, harder and faster.

"Fuck! Ashton!" You screamed when you came. Putting your hand to your mouth when you realized what you said. At the same time, Ashton came all over his hand, panting hard. His curls were sticking to his forehead.

Did she just say my name? She couldn't have.

-----

In the morning you decided to lounge by the pool, and get some sun. You put on your favorite blue bikini and put your hair in a bun and headed out to the garden.

You opened up the door to your yard, secretly hoping a certain hazel eyed man would stumble in.

Sitting on a lounge chair, looking at your phone you noticed a tall figure looking down at you.

"Fuckin´ hot today, eh?" It was Ashton. A shirtless Ashton. Looking you up and down with no shame. "Good morning Mr. Irwin." You smiled. "You're finally out of the house." You added. "I wanted to see you, darling." He replied. Your mouth turned dry.

"You wanted to see me?" You repeated, making him smile. "Why do you want this old man out of your garden?" He chuckled, making you giggle. "Nah, c´mere." You told him, making a "Come hither" motion with your finger.

Just to think those were the fingers that were inside you last night made him shiver.

You tucked your legs in and motioned for him to sit at the tip of the lounging chair. When he sat, you spread your legs to fit around his thighs.

The only thing separating your pussy from his back was a flimsy piece of fabric.

"So, where are you from?" You asked him. "I´m originally from Australia, but I moved here a few years ago." You nodded. "Why´d you move?" You asked, picking at his sunburnt shoulders. "I think I just wanted to move on with my life, start a new chapter." He looked back at you and smiled. "Fair enough." You smiled back.

"I haven't noticed your tattoos." You said, stroking your hands on his arm. "Yeah got a few of them, love, years of experience." He smiled. "This one's my favorite." You pointed at his snake tattoo on his bicep. "It's one of my favorites too."

"Do you have any more tattoos?" You asked, rubbing both of his thighs. "y/n..." He melted into your touch. "I'm just asking." You grinned, placing a kiss on his neck. "Jesus Christ." He chuckled in between shallow breaths. "Are you sure?" He asked. You muttered an "mhm."

"I´ve seen you eye fucking me, Ashton, when we first met, when I was taking out the trash, right back then..."

He stood up, turned to face you, and sat back down."Dirty girl... When I was in college you weren't even born yet." You shrugged your shoulders, smiling. You could feel a wet patch growing in your bikini bottoms.

"I was touching myself thinking of you last night." You whispered, making him grin. "Me too." He chuckled. "You just looked so pretty yesterday... Your window was open." Your mouth dropped. "You perv!" You smiled. "Hey, you´re the one touching yourself thinking of an old man fucking you." He grinned.

"You looked so cute squirming, bunny." This sent shivers down your spine.

"Please kiss me." You pleaded. He wasted no time. He held your face with his two hands and kissed you, the kiss was fervent, urgent. Your tongues battling between each other, barely giving you space to breathe.

"Do anything you want to me, Ashton." You told him. "Anything?" He asked. "Anything." You smiled. "That´s a very bold claim to make." "I mean it." You smirked.

"Stand up." He ordered, doing the same as you. "You brought this upon yourself." He smiled, as he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, making you scream and giggle.

He unlocked his front door and carried you inside. You observed three guitars and a huge drumset in his living room, complete with 10 pairs of drumming sticks.

He placed you on the couch that was big enough to fit four people, putting enough force for you to land with an "oomph."

"You look so cute, babygirl." He smiled, making you blush. You decided to make a risky move. "Thank you, daddy." You replied, waiting for his response.

You could see his eyes visibly darken, and his mouth turned into a grin. "Holy fuck, y/n." He smiled. "Want me to be your daddy?" He asked you. You could only mutter an "mhm." Your clit was throbbing, practically begging to be touched.

He trailed a finger through your bikini bottoms, making your whole body shiver. "So wet for me, and I haven't even touched you, bunny." He whispered in your ear. "Please, Ashton." You mewled.

He tugged at the strings of your bikini top and undid them. "You have such perfect tits, princess." He said, while fondling them. Placing his mouth on one and nipping at it, making you whimper. "So sensitive, too." He smiled.

Kneeling in front of you on the couch, he tugged on your bikini bottoms taking them off. You clenched your legs together, by instinct, blushing. "No need to be shy, princess." He smiled, gently pushing your legs apart and peppering little kisses on the inside of your thighs.

"Such a pretty pussy." He cooed. "Fuckin´ perfect."

He kitten licked your clit, making you let out a breathy moan. He looked up at you, waiting for your approval. You nodded and smiled, making him grin.

He grabbed your lower back with his big hands and pulled you closer to his face, making you gasp.

His pupils were blown out with lust. Dipping down to face your sex. Without warning, he dives in and you feel him licking a long strip between your wet folds.

"Fuck! Ashton." You exclaim, grabbing his curls and digging your fingers into his scalp. He winced at the pain, but he definitely enjoyed this.

You grind against his mouth, while his tongue draws circles around your clit. Throwing your head back into the couch, your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

The sensation was almost too much. His eyes never left you, enjoying the sight of you convulsing on the couch. Your pretty moans were like music to his ears.

He licks faster and faster. Groaning inside of you. "I'm getting- I'm getting close." You said in between shallow breaths. He starts sucking on your clit harshly, the sounds were borderline sinful.

You felt a tightness inside your stomach, like a cord waiting to snap. "Don´t stop, please." You mewled.

Your orgasm washes over you, making your whole body shake, clenching your walls around Ashton´s tongue. "Oh my God." You smiled.

Ashton surfaced, his lips were puffy and his mouth was covered in your slick. "Hi." You giggled. "Hi." He repeated, smiling. You covered your face with your hands, and blushed.

"Can I taste you?" You asked. "I-um, fuck yes." He stuttered. "Yeah, you can taste me."

He takes off his shirt and gives it to you. "Here baby, for your knees." You smile and bunch up the soft cotton material on the ground.

You kneel down in front of him, pulling his shorts down and snapping the elastic band of his boxers, finally freeing him. His erection sprang up at you. It was the longest and thickest cock you´ve ever seen.

"See how you make me feel, bunny?" He asked, making you smile. You pumped his shaft a few times to test the waters, making him groan deeply. "Fuck, y/n..." He moaned.

You kitten lick his tip, tasting his salty pre-cum, making Ashton´s whole body shiver.

Sinking down, you took his whole length, gagging. Ashton gently grabbed your hair, holding it to get it out of the way. Bobbing your head up and down, swirling circles around his tip.

"Fu-uck..." He moaned. "You're so perfect." He breathed deeply.

Soon enough, he was moving his hips, increasing his pace while his head was thrown back. "Makin´ me feel so good, sweet girl." He groaned.

He pulled himself out of you, grabbing you by the hair. "I´m not gonna be able to fuck you if we continue this." He chuckled. "Want daddy to fuck you, bunny?" He asked, making you nod. "Please, that's all I want, please." You begged, making him smile darkly.

You both stood up. "C´mere." He said, picking you up bridal style. You were still surprised as to how he could pick you up like you were nothing.

Taking you up a big staircase, you found yourself in a huge master bedroom, complete with another drum set, and vinyls hanging on the walls.

He plopped you down on the bed, a bit more roughly this time.

He looked around, opening a few drawers. "What 's wrong?" You asked. "Shit, I don't have a condom." He muttered. "I'm on the pill." You smiled, making him grin as well. "That's all you needed to say." He replied, taking off his shorts and underwear.

He climbed on top of the bed, hovering over you. "Daddy's gonna make you feel good, sweetheart." He smiled, you watched his eyes darken.

He puts a hand on your throat and pushes his mouth in for a kiss, hard, sloppy, hungry.

"You okay?" He smiles. "Yeah, just please fuck me Ashton." You pleaded. "Atta girl." He responded.

He grabbed your hips and slowly pushed himself inside of you, hissing at the feeling. The initial stretch burned, but slowly but surely you got adjusted to his size.

"Fuck, you´re so tight, bunny." He groaned, starting to pump in and out, guiding your hips, making you arch your back off the mattress, if they could, your eyes could roll into the back of your head.

"Please, faster." You exclaimed. You were lightheaded, becoming cockdrunk, letting out little moans that made Ashton go wild. "Want to ruin you, so nobody but me gets to use this pussy."

"Fuck! Just like that!" You exclaimed, feeling the pulsing wave of pleasure continue to grow inside of you, clenching around his cock. "You're taking me so well baby girl, won't last much longer with you clenching around me like that." He breathed rapidly.

"I'm close, Ashton." You repeated. "Cum for me bunny, let me feel that perfect fucking pussy." Those words were enough to make you cum alone.

You felt a familiar feeling inside your stomach. You felt Ashton´s cock twitch inside of you, meaning he was close as well.

You released yourself, gushing all over his cock, "Mphhhh.." You mewled and he filled you up to the brim with his cum, with a deep groaning sound,almost animalistic. he pulled out of you, letting his cum spill all over the sheets.

"Give me a second." He said, getting up and going to the bathroom, retrieving some wipes to help you clean up, discarding them in a trash can next to his bed.

"Was that okay?" He smiled. "It was perfect, Ashton." You grinned, looking up at him, pulling him into a kiss.

"Jesus, y/n, you´re gonna be the death of me." He curled his lips up into the kiss.

[souperbloom]

being in love. [A.I.]

loosely based on lyrics of the song with the same title, by Wet Leg.

roadie! reader x Ashton

in which you realize your feelings for your boss are a lot more detrimental than you thought they were.

this was supposed to be short and i went overboard. oops! enjoy my first post :^)

CONTENT WARNINGS: tension/slight mental angst, mentions of weed smokin', sex in a somewhat public place/exhibitionism, teasing, fingering(f!receiving), dirty talk, degradation, straight up p in v, insinuation of a creampie, porn with plot basically, filth, filth, FILTH (there is something seriously wrong with me).

WORDCOUNT: 7.9k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You couldn’t fucking stand him.

As much as you wanted to believe that statement, your heart, mind, and soul found every which way to make you believe otherwise.

The days you spent with him dragged on. His over the top personality was like a vacuum cleaner that sucked every ounce of life out of you.

And yet, despite your annoyance with his ability to charm his way towards your demise, the days without him felt like a lifetime.

Since the first time you and Ashton hooked up, all you were able to think about, after the fact, were the things that you really shouldn’t have been.

Almost every night without missing a beat, you’d lie awake in bed; staring off at the ceiling through your post-show exhaustion and reminiscing on the hours you’ve spent with him. Sneaking off between down times and show times. For a quick and casual fuck.

You’d think about his terrible jokes, the little speckles of brown lost between the hues of green in his eyes, or his ability to make you feel like nothing in the best possible way.

You thought about them. You thought about him. All in hopes that one day, you’d think about him so hard that he would just vanish.

It was reverse psychology, you thought, a way to turn that fluttering feeling you get when you’re around him into something a little less existential, and more like you had both originally intended.

Something more casual.

You didn’t like the fact that he had this effect on you. He was about as brutish and irritating as the day is long. When it was just the two of you, you wished more than anything that he would stop being so damn’ sweet and charismatic. The thought of him calling you nicknames and whispering sweet nothings in your ear made you want to curl up and die.

But the vital organ pumping blood through your veins begged to differ.

Whenever he was around, the pounding of your heart against your ribcage was so deafening, you were almost certain that he could hear it.

It felt strange to wake up, to lie down, to close your eyes and think about anything else. You couldn’t even eat without the thought of him stirring up nausea in your stomach. It was almost as if nothing you did could satisfy you. Nothing you did was right.

Because any time without him felt so wrong.

There were moments in which you wondered whether or not he could feel it too. You'd catch him staring at you from across the dressing room, his eyes lingering down your frame for a millisecond longer than normal.

But you're never quite able to figure it out. To figure him out. He was a thousand piece puzzle, and you were stuck looking for the last piece between the couch cushions.

"Yo, earth to Y/N. Did we lose ya' again?"

Your trance is broken by the sound of Calum's voice. You had been so wrapped up in your own pity-party that you had completely forgotten that you were in the middle of a conversation.

"Jeez, are we really that boring?" Luke laughs out, leaning back in his seat, "I thought our conversation about green tea was quite compelling."

"Sorry, sorry..." You try to snap yourself out of whatever God forsaken rut you've dug yourself into, covering up the awkward silence with the clearing of your throat. "...I guess I don't like green tea as much as I thought I did."

"I'm with Y/N on this one. Green tea is fucking disgusting." Michael comes to your rescue with his reply, which practically had you kissing his shoes as a thank you for saving my ass.

"You guys clearly have no taste. It's simple." Luke shrugs, taking a sip of his ice water. "I know if Ashton was here he'd be on our side, right Cal?"

Calum nods his head, "Speaking of Ashton... where the fuck is he? He said he'd meet us..." he pauses his sentence to look at his phone, "...like, an hour ago."

The pit of your stomach lurches at Calum's observation. He was right. Ashton had said he'd be down in the lounge... after he took a quick shower.

But then again, a quick shower was one of those double entendres in you and Ashton's world. Was he waiting for you? Did you misread his subtle glance after he walked right past you when you tried to hand him his water?

Or maybe that wasn't the case. Maybe you’re just overthinking things.

Maybe he just looked at you because he's your boss and you're his roadie; who he just so happens to fuck from time to time.

That's all it was. That's all it ever will be.

"I can go look for him?" You blurt, immediately wanting to smack yourself in the face for sounding so small.

"You don't have to do that, Y/N. He'll find his way down eventually." Michael sighs.

"He's like a ghost, dude... He disappears for hours. Doesn't answer his phone. Then suddenly, POOF, he appears out of thin air. It's fuckin' witchcraft, I think..."

Calum's comment earns a roaring laugh from the rest of the guys, but you weren't at all laughing. You were too busy debating walking out of the door and hoping they wouldn't notice you were gone.

"I don't think I believe in ghosts..."

Another dumbass conversation ensues.

"Are you kidding?! Since when did you stop believing in ghosts?!" Luke seems genuinely offended by Michael's admission.

And yet, you were stuck there. Wanting to rip your hair out as a giant cloud of sex-driven frustration rained down on you.

"Speaking of ghosts," you can't help but interject, speaking a little louder than you had originally anticipated, "I think I’m gonna go look for Ashton. He's probably off haunting the bar down in the lobby…"

"Well, if you insist," Calum says, saluting you, "good luck, ghost hunter."

As you exited the lounge with no issue and let the boys be boys, you thought to yourself.

Hm, getting out of there was a lot easier than I had anticipated.

But what you hadn't anticipated was the sheer speed in which your feet would pound against the floorboards once you started off down the hall. For you knew just where to look for him.

You were on a mission. A mission to find Ashton, in hopes that he could be the one to free you of the confines of your frustration. In the best way you both knew how.

Once you made it to the elevator corridor, you had to take a moment. To collect yourself and think... what the fuck are you doing?

Did you really think that fucking Ashton would get your mind off of the romantic connection you so desperately craved in him? Did you really think this was the best idea you've ever had?

The answer was no. You knew that this whole ordeal would dig your metaphorical grave ten feet deeper. But you honestly didn't have the energy to care. This witch hunt has turned into merely a way to get off.

Just like God intended.

You step into the elevator, already knowing your way around this hotel like the back of your hand after only being stationed here for a few days.

As the elevator made its' trip up to the rooftop, your senses were heightened. The elevator dings sounded like sirens and the climbing of floors was pushing down on you, making you feel as though the oxygen in your lungs was being forced out by the altitude change.

Your symptoms couldn't be explained by anything other than Ashton, as much as you hated to admit it. It was typical for you to feel this way whenever you answered to his beckoning call.

Just a quick and casual fuck. Quick. And casual.

You tried to focus your mind on those two words. Forcing your conscious out of habit and tricking yourself into believing them.

But as soon as the elevator door slid open, those two words were nothing but dust in the wind.

All you could see in the darkness of the twinkling summer sky was the curve of Ashton's shoulder, highlighted slightly by the patio lights. He was looking out past the glass that surrounded the rooftop, off into the New York City skyline.

You froze up upon seeing him, barely managing to step across the elevator threshold without vomiting all over your shoes.

There were remnants of smoke lingering in the air around him, a familiar, earthy smell touching your nose upon piecing your two senses together.

Before you could tell your brain to step forward, Ashton's head turns to face you. You finally get a look at him, a good look at him.

And fuck, did he look divine.

His hair was partially wet, rogue curls hanging lowly on his forehead with that post show gleam still laced throughout his features. He scratches at the stubble on his chin, a droplet of water dripping down his temple upon doing so.

"Y/N," he leered, the blank expression that once painted his face now lifting into a smirk.

"Ashton," you reply; although small talk is the last thing you wished to be having at the moment.

"Where've ya' been?" he asks, leaning his arm to rest against the back of the couch he was sprawled out on.

"The lounge... The guys are down there waiting for you, y'know." You try to divert the attention away from yourself. But you knew for a fact that you were the only thing on his mind right now.

His eyes scan your body. Up, and down. Up, and down. Like he was stuck in some sort of trance. "Well, that's funny, isn't it. Because I've been up here… waiting for you."

You fuckin’ knew it.

"And how was I supposed to know that?"

He pauses, thumbing at his chin, "I'm not sure, actually... 'Thought you would've had me figured out by now."

It was taking everything inside of you not to run over there and smack the shit out of him for being such a snarky asshole. But you were well aware of the dynamic between you two; this type of banter wasn't out of the ordinary.

"You just gonna stand there and stare at me, honey?" Ashton remarks, calling you by that nickname that makes your stomach hurt and revealing his hand from behind the couch; a lit and half-smoked joint plucked between his fingertips.

Without another word, you walk over to him, slowly starting to display more and more of his body laid out on the couch.

He had on a loosely fitting Hawaiian shirt, one of the ones with only half the normal amount of buttons, and a pair of grey sweatpants. To contradict the tone of the outfit and make it totally clear to you where his head was at when he put them on.

The Hawaiian shirt hung off of his shoulders, revealing his collarbone decked out in beaded necklaces and braided silver chains.

You wanted more than anything to take those chains between your teeth as he hovered over you, pinning you down and fucking into you like you were the last two people on Earth.

Sidetracked, Y/N. You’re getting sidetracked.

When it came to hooking up, you and Ashton had discovered a natural rhythm. A routine, of sorts, consisting of unspoken demands and a whole lot of Ashton holding the reins.

No need to give orders, or ask for more. You both knew what you wanted and exactly how to get it.

But that routine so deeply instilled in you had seemed to vanish as soon as you stepped in front of him.

Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth as you teetered from side to side, just admiring Ashton in all of his residually high glory. You wanted to say something, but couldn't bring yourself to say anything else but these two words:

"Fuck me."

His eyes widen in shock. Amusement, even. The joint between his fingers dwindling down to the roach and leaving ashes in the wind as he lets out a quiet chuckle.

"Y/N, I—"

You cut him off abruptly, "It wasn't a fucking question, Ash."

You didn't mean to come off so bossily, but at this point you were willing to do anything to forget about the weight that came with having alleged feelings for him.

Even if that something was letting him fuck you until you cried.

"Right here?"

"Yes." Your heart was racing.

"Right now?"

"Yes." Reminiscent of a heart attack.

And then he does something that makes you even more frustrated than you were before this entire ordeal. He looks at you, without a care, and just… shrugs.

“Works for me.”

You hated that. Oh, you fucking hated that. That cocky, ‘devil-may-care’ attitude. It gets you so worked up that you consider winding up your fist and cracking him the jaw.

But you don’t end up going through with your desires to hurt him at all. Instead, you’re pouncing at him. Scrambling to straddle his comfortably spread legs as he pulls you by your cheeks into a heated kiss.

You sigh upon feeling your lips on his, Ashton just as well. The both of you tend to melt into each other’s palms when your lips connect; which is another reason as to why your head was all fucked up and sideways in the first place.

As the kiss between you grows more primal, you find yourself taking out your frustrations and feelings on Ashton’s bottom lip. You sink your teeth into the soft flesh, tugging it down gently towards his chin.

His hands fumble for the button of your jeans, grunting lowly as he struggles to get it undone.

"Fuck— Get these… Get these damn things off…" The remark flies past his lips, and yours, in a disgruntled huff. You do as you’re told, momentarily disconnecting from him.

When you rise to your feet, being held up by weak, unreliable knees, he looks up. That face of amusement was still painted on, mocking you.

Was he still thinking about your desperate demand? Or was he just enjoying the view?

"Someone’s a little greedy tonight," he says, blowing out a breath and running a hand through his fresh, now sweaty, curls.

"I don’t wanna hear shit from you. You’re the greediest motherfucker alive." You tease back at him, undoing your zipper and shimmying out of your jeans.

"I’ll take that as a compliment coming from you, Miss ‘I never know what I want and I need Ashton to tell me’.”

"I knew what I wanted tonight, didn’t I?" His threats were empty, but you were loving it. You loved to tease, loved to be teased.

"That is true,” he sighs, looking down at the roach he had flicked onto the floor. He stomps it out with his steel-toed boot. "But that’s, what, one time—? Out of the however-the-fuck many times we’ve slept together?"

“You’re making this a lot more complicated than it has to be, Ash. Fuckin’ live a little.”

You were now in your t-shirt and underwear out on this rooftop, telling Ashton to live a little while you’re practically caving in on yourself in embarrassment.

"But, honey... why out here? Why right now?" he asks. Genuinely. Almost sweetly.

You didn't want to admit the real reason as to why you were acting so curtly. The embarrassment of sounding desperate and needy was doing numbers on you already.

"Does there always need to be a reason why?"

You cross your arms over your chest, feeling overexposed. But Ashton’s eyes scan down your frame as if there’s no shame left in the world.

"My apologies for seeming hesitant... You know full and well— I’d do you any time, any place.”

"Is that so?” you quip.

"I don’t think you realize how often I think about having you bouncing on my dick while I’m out on stage performing, so— yes, that is so.”

The way he admits this all so casually makes your stomach turn. You knew he was dirty, but not this dirty. You just assumed he knew that there was a time and place for all of these thoughts.

And the fact that he was thinking about you at all wasn’t making this any easier.

"Well?” Ashton snaps your mind out of the gutter. Ironic.

"Well what?"

"You just gonna stand there in your underwear?"

Oh. Right.

After a moment of blundering awkwardness, you walk towards him timidly, feeling as if your soul was freeing itself from your body as he extends his arms out to hold you.

You make your way back into his lap, digging your knees into the cushions comfortably beside his thighs and letting him run his blistered palm down the side of your face.

His bloodshot eyes find yours like a magnet. Your breath is trapped somewhere in your larynx as his hand continues its journey to your neck.

You felt like you were about to burst at the seams, the tension and friction building between you was like a bottle rocket, ready to set off into the sky.

And with that, exactly on cue, your heart is racing, as he cups your throat between ring finger and thumb. Your rattling ribcage was telling him all he needed to know when the pads of his fingers began to squeeze gently.

You close your eyes, "Ashton..."

"Y/N..." He repeats matching your hushed tone, swallowing the lump in his throat as your noses brush together.

His nose grazes yours with fragility and tenderness, his touch as light as a feather. But you couldn’t stand the space between you two. The clear disconnect between your lips and his.

He seemed to be lingering longer than usual. You found yourself wondering what the hell was going on in his head. Since you had clearly told him what you wanted a long time ago.

"Why aren’t you kissing me?" you ask quietly, still so close to his face that his features had gone blurry.

"Could ask you the same question, honey." His breath fans across your face and suddenly you’re reverting back to your old ways. Back before you were so— demanding.

“Well, not to be clichè, but— you’re meant to take the lead here, Ash.” You say it as if it were obvious, but he disagrees.

"Clearly not tonight."

Now, you were stuck.

You came up here to find him for one reason, and one reason only. To fuck him… to get your mind off of him.

But that all sounded a bit complicated, though. Didn’t it?

"Y/N…" He says your name again, reminiscent of pure honey dripping off of his tongue.

"Hm...?"

God, what is with him and saying your name?

"Is there something on your mind?"

You cock your head, "Would you still fuck me if I said no?..."

Ashton’s eyebrows shoot to his forehead.

"…Even if I wasn’t telling the whole truth?"

He backs away from you, giving you a better look at the confused expression laminated across his face.

"You’re a real card, aren’t’cha?”

His confusion melts into a smile, as he removes his hand from your neck to match his other at your waist. "You know I’d never force anything out of you, Y/N. But— just so you know… Honesty is the first chapter in the book of wisdom."

You can’t help but roll your eyes at his terrible cliché, finding your hand lost in his unruly curls. "You’re such an old man."

He winces, "God— please… Don’t put that picture in my head… It’s killing the mood."

In the brief moment of silence and sweetness shared between you and him, it was taking everything inside of you not to scream at the top of your lungs.

You wanted to scream; Ashton Irwin, I am in love with you. Ashton Irwin, I am in love with you… over and over again.

Until it didn’t mean a thing.

"Not gonna lie to you, honey— M’gettin’ impatient." Ashton lets out a deep sigh, his eyes snapping you out of a downward spiral.

"Right, right. I’m sorry—"

You cut yourself short by reconnecting your lips to his. You missed this feeling, even after only a few minutes; something inside of you dies every time you pull away from him.

He pulls your waist into his torso, pushing you down and grinding you against the already hardened length in his sweatpants. The wildly thin material left no room for the imagination, as it was now creating friction against your wet panties.

"Fuckin’ hell, Y/N—" Ashton mumbles through your lips, and you just sigh. You sigh into him like putty in his hands, creating a rhythm of swiveling hips and only furthering the fireworks that were occurring in the pit of your stomach.

He removes one hand from your waist, blindly finding the waistband of your underwear like it was some mindless, natural instinct.

Muscle memory is a damned thing.

Detaching your lips from his, you whine. "Ash, please—"

You wince internally at how needy you sounded. How desperate and completely disheveled you’ve become at his touch. Yet the blistered pads of his fingers continued to trace slow, taunting patterns along your bikini line.

But as your breathing becomes more erratic, Ashton reads you like the book he already knows so well. Front page to back, cover to fucking cover.

He dips two fingers down into your underwear, attaching them to your sensitive bud.

You writhe above him, but he keeps you grounded, anchoring his hand on your waist with his forehead pressed against yours.

His eyes flutter closed in delight. "So fuckin’ wet for me, yeah? This’ all for me, honey?"

It felt like he was mocking you. Of course it was for him. It was all for him. Anything you ever did was for him. Any feelings you’ve felt, thoughts you’ve had, stories you’ve told… they were all for him.

You can only bring yourself to nod.

"Good, good…" he sighs, breathlessly, "Gonna’ take me so easy tonight…"

He continues his rhythm. One finger circling your clit while the other ghosts over your entrance. Heavenly sighs fall from your lips. You want to close your eyes, you want to enjoy the sensation as it were.

But you just couldn’t look away.

"Look at me, Ash."

A bout of confidence rolls through your veins and you aren’t quite sure where it was coming from, but you had no complaints. Your foreheads being pressed together was making you antsy.

His features were still blurry through glossy eyes, which you didn’t really like. You wanted to get a good look at him before you tried to dismiss these feelings, and pretend as though he meant nothing.

Nothing at all.

He does as he’s told, and backs away from you. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he took in every single feature, etching, God knows what else, on your face.

"You know how fuckin’ beautiful you are, Y/N?— Always so good for me… like an angel… heaven sent."

Those words unleash something inside of you. Tears begin to brim at your lower lash line and you’re suddenly reminded of the feeling that you are so desperately trying to forget.

Existing in this world with him felt so strange. You truly believe he was sent down to Earth to smite you and haunt your memories.

And hearing him call you an angel didn’t help a damn thing.

The words you utter next come out just above a whisper. Your throat feels gravelly, and dry. Like you hadn’t drank water in years.

"Fuck me, Ashton. Just— fuck me, please—"

"M’gettin' there," he grunts, ignoring your plea and still chipping away at your decorum with his bare hands.

You let out a loud, high pitched mewl as you feel his two fingers now inside of you. He always took his time when it came to pleasuring you, always making sure that you’d be the one getting off first, even if he didn’t get the chance to.

Now, you’ve found yourself thinking in depth about just how thoughtful he is.

Jesus fuck, give it a rest.

"You know how much I adore those sweet sounds you make. But you’ve gotta be a tad bit quieter for me, alright angel?"

Oh god, you thought, this nickname better not become a recurring thing. You weren’t even sure you’d be able to fathom the thought of him thinking of you so highly.

"Okay, oh— fuck, Ashton"

Your brain was moving at a mile a minute. While trying to be quiet and simultaneously losing your head in the process, a smirk slides across Ashton’s face. He picks up on the signs, he notices your movements on his lap becoming more and more frenzied.

You knew you were close. He knew you were close.

Oh, of course he fucking did. He knew you like the back of his hand.

"Ash, I’m close… Please—" You begged empty pleas, finding stability with your hands clasped around his neck as you jerk forward with that fluttering feeling.

"I feel it comin’. Bein’ so— so good… C’mon— give it to me."

His two fingers thrust in and out of you while a third circled your clit. You wanted to scream, but he told you to be quiet. You wanted to kiss him, but you couldn’t pull yourself away from the purely concentrated, almost sadistic look in his eyes.

"That’s my girl… that’s my fuckin’ girl…"

The sounds of your wetness boom through your head along with the sounds of his praise, slowly meshing into a garish ringing in your ear. The butterflies once encased in the pit of your stomach had set free, fluttering along your body as Ashton’s rhythmic fingers come to a slowdown.

"Fuck!" You cry out, as your body collapses into his chest.

You could feel his ribcage shake with laughter, as he takes that free hand of his to rub your back. Your head is tossed over his shoulder as you manage your breathing.

"…Is that all you’ve got in you tonight?"

You could barely hear his voice over the ringing in your ears, as you heave like this was the last breath you’d ever take. He then removes his fingers from inside of you, causing you to jolt, still sensitive from the electricity coursing through your veins just moments before.

"N—no…" You stutter into his neck.

"You sure?"

"Uh-huh."

Your head was still spinning while you tried to cool down. The temperature of your bodies entwined was like a hot stovetop, setting your skin ablaze. But you couldn’t find it in you to lift yourself up from the crook of his shoulder.

You liked it there. It was comfortable. It felt natural.

After a few moments of silence and messy breathing, you lift your head up.

"All good now?" He asks, running a hand down your waist.

"I think so... Almost knocked me out with that one Ash, not gonna lie."

All he does is laugh, before hovering the two fingers he had used to unravel you with in front of the both of your faces.

"See this?" He examines his fingers, still glistening with your secretions, "Is this what I do to you?"

Your jaw falls open slightly, "Wh—"

He takes a moment to think to himself, pushing his lips to the side while you just watched in complete awe.

"…I wonder if my honey girl tastes as sweet as she looks?"

You don’t even have a moment to blink before he takes those two fingers into his mouth. He sucks whatever’s left of you off of his digits, before pulling them out with a pop.

"Mmm," he hums, "Just as I’d imagined… Sweet as fuckin’ honey"

Something inside of you snaps, and you’re suddenly reattaching your lips to his. He moans into you, taken aback by your actions with his hands fumbling to grab your ass and grind you down into him.

"I need— I need you…" You mumble into his lips, not long before he juts his tongue out to run it across your bottom lip.

His stubble scratches against your palms as you grab ahold of his face, trying to ease him into you as if it were even humanly possible to get him any closer.

"Need me t’fuck you, honey? You— you want me that badly?" He asks quickly, sounding out of breath already from the sheer friction of your hips grinding against him. You nod rapidly, and he dips down to kiss your neck to let you know that he heard you loud and clear.

“Please, Ash…" You couldn’t help it, your mind was still reeling, "I need to feel you—"

Your words come out airy and forced, like somebody was squeezing them out of you. But you couldn’t stop yourself no matter how hard you bit down your tongue.

"...Fuck me like I’m worthless… Fuck me like I mean nothing to you at all…"

His head pops up from the crook of your neck, a sardonic look in his eye.

"Say that again for me?"

"…Fuck me like I mean nothing to you, Ashton. Fuck me like I mean nothing at all.”

You couldn’t describe the way his face changed. The way it morphed into something that you weren’t at all used to. It wasn’t sarcastic, no. It wasn’t the usual cheeky grin, either.

You were afraid that you had just dug your grave even deeper this time.

"Stand up." He demands shortly, which brings goosebumps across your arms.

"Stand up?" You repeat, like a goddamn lovesick puppy.

"Stand the fuck up, Y/N."

You do as you’re told, wearily, lifting yourself off of him and rising to your feet. You watch in anticipation, crossing your arms over your chest as he remains sitting.

The dynamic between you two had shifted drastically. It was clear that Ashton was still in charge, only this time, it felt absolutely terrifying.

You wished you hadn’t said anything at all. You wished he had just let you ride him, as you were planning to do. But your emotions gotten the best of you. The thought of caring for him so deeply had actually brought you to spiral out of control.

What you had been longing for, all this time, was about to come true.

With that, you planned to do everything you were told. Each and every single order barked at you was to be followed. You wanted to see what it felt like. What it felt like to feel nothing for a change.

"Walk to the balcony." Another demand. You hesitate, still dealing with a subconscious battle of self. Your heart and brain were going at it like two bulls in the ring.

"Are you— are you gonna come with me?" You find your gaze glued to the patio, feeling as small and as meek as ever.

"Meh, I’ll make my way over eventually."

Fair enough.

You walk over towards the balcony; left only in your thin, grey CREW v-neck and a pair of frilly, sage green underwear.

The fact that Ashton didn’t comment on the color of them made you feel a bit discouraged. Green was his favorite color, after all. You at least thought he’d take a moment to appreciate it.

God knows that moment won’t be happening now.

You start to near the glass railing that surrounded the rooftop. But despite your back being turned, you could completely feel his eyes searing bullet holes into your flesh. A chill ran down your spine, uncomfortable with the feeling of being watched, yet enjoying the fact that it was by him.

"Keep walking."

You were getting so close to the glass that it actually started to feel cold, despite the lingering August air.

You also weren’t sure where his head was at. Him having you walk towards the balcony that was completely out-turned and visible to the street below almost felt like he was trying to humiliate you.

But that feeling was quickly washed away when you felt his footsteps behind you.

"You have any idea what you’ve just gotten yourself into, honey?” He inches close to you, close enough to feel the warmth of his body radiating onto your back yet still too far away to touch you.

You swallow the lump forming in your throat. “No… I-I don’t think so…"

You were telling the truth. No, Ashton, you had not a clue what you had just gotten yourself into. The absolute wormhole that you had just unlocked for yourself.

A new way to feel about things. A new way to feel about him.

Another wave of chills runs down your back as he takes the back of his hand and runs it down your shoulder. You wince, wanting nothing more than to turn around and kiss him.

"I didn’t think you had it in you."

"What?" Your voice comes out high pitched. Almost… nervous.

"To order me around like that. To finally buck up n’ tell me how to have my way with ya’… It’s honestly— kind of impressive."

His hand strokes down your arm once again, but this time, you just sigh.

He thinks this is just roleplay.

Little did he know that all of this nagging and bossiness had come from the truest, most integral parts of your soul and your longing to forget about the way your heart beats for him.

"You think so?" You try to gain back your sparkle with a witty reply, "How else can I impress you, Ash?"

All of these words exchanged between you two were said facing away from one another. You hadn’t the energy to care, nor the energy to make this anymore meaningful than it was, or was not, supposed to be.

You’ve finally decided to let go.

"Well, you can start by bending over." He snaps back. He’s always been so quick with his words.

To follow your mantra from before, you do as you’re told, bending over slightly and exposing your bare asscheeks to him. You lean your arms over the glass railing, your wrists going limp in doing so.

"’Like the view?" You ask, sparing him a glance over your shoulder in hopes to get a little more of a rise out of him.

"The view won’t mean much while I’m using you, honey."

Your face grows pale, a rush of static that felt like pinpricks crawls across your body. Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Ashton.

The excitement and rush of it all is now, finally, catching up to you. You were about to have meaningless sex with the person that means the most. In a way, it did feel like roleplay.

Except your role was pretending like you didn’t give a fuck about him.

"Gimme’ your wrist." You hear Ashton bark another command from behind you, along with the shuffling of fabric. Before you could even offer your wrist to him, he’s taking it upon himself to reach up and grab it.

He swiftly pins one of your arms behind your back, making you gasp and teeter on your feet.

"Ashton…" You try to say, but are immediately silenced by his other hand hooking a finger to the waistline of your panties.

"Don’t say another word, Y/N. You’re in no position to talk right now."

Your breath gets caught in your throat, now with your one free hand anchored to the railing. It was all a waiting game, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t extremely turned on by him and his newfound unpredictability.

"I have a job for you." His voice rings in your ears, as he bends down above you to be parallel to your curved back. "…Think you could follow some orders f’me? Just for tonight?"

Just for tonight, you thought. Just for tonight.

You nod at his question. It was the only thing you were capable of doing, anyway.

"You’re gonna take my cock… But I don’t wanna hear a peep from that dirty mouth of yours. One fuckin’ sound and I swear… I’ll send you back downstairs with mascara running down your face and nothin’ to fuckin’ show for it."

You nod again. You were a nodding, blubbering mess.

"Think you could do that for me? Think you could be good enough for me to let you cum again?"

You nod, once again.

"And you told me what you wanted, right? Told me loud and clear how you wanted me to treat you? Out here— where there’s a small chance somebody could walk in on this?"

His pelvis presses against you as he taunts, and you’re left feeling even weaker in the knees.

This time, it wasn’t a nod. It was more of a sob.

"Good, good to know…" He softens his tone, lips now centimeters away from your ear.

"…Now bend the fuck over n’ let me use you like you’re nothing."

In a flash of vibrant colors swirling around the backs of your eyelids, you feel Ashton push your panties aside. He runs two fingers up your damp slit, bringing your face to a pinch.

You were still so sensitive after letting him have his way with you the first time. But you couldn’t fathom going another minute without the feeling of him buried inside of you.

"Please—" You whisper, but only to yourself.

You didn’t want to know what he’d do if he’d heard it.

His next movements were methodical, and slow, like he was a puppeteer playing with your strings. His hands dance along the sides of your hips, moving up to rub the small of your back.

He puffs out a breath, seemingly taking you in from behind.

"You're a fuckin' vision, Y/N... It's too bad you don't want me to treat you that way."

His ceaseless taunting was making your vision go shaky.

But you needed to keep reminding yourself... you fucking asked for it.

"Gonna let me use you, honey? Like my own personal doll... that I can toss around n' rough up... Mmm, 'bet you've been thinking about this for a while, haven't you?"

"Ashton..." You can help but let his name tumble from your lips. But in a flash, his hand is cracking down on your bare asscheek, creating a loud clap that you swore could be heard for miles. You let out a yelp, but quickly clamp your lips shut.

Your skin burns from the contact, your mouth going bone dry.

"What did I fucking say about that mouth of yours, Y/N? Not a fucking peep."

As he guides himself up and down your slit, collecting your juices on his leaky tip, you choke back the tears in your eyes. You still wanted nothing more than to turn around and kiss him, which was just a damned thing.

"So wet f'me... God, I'm in heaven."

It was almost as if each string of sentences that came out of his mouth were traveling in through one ear and right out of the other. I suppose this was your karma for being so demanding.

But this is what you wanted, wasn't it? Even though Ashton's means of 'fucking you like you're worthless' still came with bouts of praise, he couldn't help it. He was only human. Testing the waters for the both of you.

Roleplay.

He traces one last drag along your folds, pushing your panties aside with his tip before suddenly slamming himself into you. You gasp at the sudden feeling of him, your body lurching forward towards the railing as his grip on your wrist grows tighter.

"Jesus fuck—." He groans through bated breath before starting his rhythm of pounding into you.

It starts off slowly. The feeling of him filling you up as your walls clench around him must've felt like heaven to the both of you, for he let out a long, dreamy sigh. The hand that was once toying with the hemline of your lacy panties was now planted on the small of your back, using you as leverage as he slammed his cock deeper with each stroke.

Ashton hums, the sounds of slapping skin now engulfing the air around you. "Fuckin' love this pussy... Like it was fuckin' made for me..."

The air in your lungs started to dissipate, practically leaving you begging for mercy at his expense. Your body jolted with each of his deep thrusts, still trying to stay quiet and do exactly as he had demanded of you.

His grip on your wrist had begun to feel raw, surely to leave you with some kind of marking, reinstating the absolute chokehold he has on you.

"Ash..." You whisper again, as he's grunting and whining from behind you.

"Whose fuckin' pussy is this? Whose fuckin' pussy is this?" He asks the question and you whimper, unable to gather any syllable of a sentence on your tongue.

Suddenly, he releases your wrist, picking up his rhythm of fucking into you. Your arm drops to your side like a ragdoll, as you scramble to balance it next to your other on the railing.

The hand of his that once held your wrist captive had traveled down to meet his other, gripping your waist and digging his blistered fingertips into your flesh.

"Fuck... fuckin' shit, Y/N... Takin' my cock so well..."

Using his hands anchored to your waist, he starts to pull you into him, slamming your hips into his pelvic bone and hitting that sweet spot with every. Single. Stroke.

"Fuck, you’re heavenly…. My sweet, sweet girl…"

At this point in time, you could care less about the semantics of this all.

Although the point of this was for Ashton to have his way with you without a single feeling attached, it seemed as though he couldn’t really help it. He was a blubbering mess of compliments and praise, a true gentleman through and through.

But that was something to think about while you lay awake in bed tonight.

For now, you just decided to live in the moment.

Ashton’s rhythm had grown sloppy. He was awfully close to making you finish for a second time, with each buck of his hips— meanwhile it was taking every last bit of your consciousness to keep yourself quiet. The pit of your stomach squeezed with each primal sound that fell from his plush lips.

"M’gonna cum soon, honey… ‘Gonna fill you up, yeah? Would you like that? Want me t’fill you up?"

Unsure of whether or not to verbalize your consent, you nod. Like a bobble-head on a broken spring.

"That’s my girl. That’s— my fuckin’ girl.”

Despite Ashton’s imminent orgasm, you could only think about two words.

My girl. My girl. My girl

They were flashing around your mind like the billboards in the Manhattan streets below. Each thought of those two words produced vibrant colors behind your eyelids, stars now fogging up the blackness as he slams into you a few more times.

"Gonna' cum, honey... G-Gonna' fill you up, m'kay? Fuck..."

With one final pound into you, the pulsing throbbing of his cock had come to a slowdown. You both let out a collective gasp, as the heat ignited between your bodies had meshed into a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest.

Ashton collapses onto your back, the front half of his body slicked with sweat and pressing into you. Your breathing had begun to sync up collectively, only for him to pull out of you and make your entire body jolt.

"Fuck, Ashton."

You were finally able to speak again. You had gotten your words back, as well as your confidence. And the feeling of his presence behind you was all you needed to get you there.

He huffs, finally lifting himself off of you. But you lag behind, taking a moment to collect your breathing as he pulls his sweatpants up.

"Jesus Christ, honey. You're a goddamn dream." He chuckles, stepping back and allowing you the space to turn around.

And that you did. Finally faced with that dream he was on about.

Sweaty, messy curls glued and rearranged to his forehead. Glossy, hooded, fucked-out eyes. The fabric of his Hawaiian shirt soaked with the mixing of your sweat and his.

He looked obscene. He looked ethereal. You wanted to tell him how absolutely picturesque he was in that moment. You wanted to give him every gorgeous compliment you could think of.

But you didn't. You couldn't.

So you said this instead.

"...It'd be a dream if you could grab my jeans."

"Don’t be impolite, Y/N. What's the magic word?" He teases, motioning towards your jeans that had been discarded in a pile on the patio.

"Oh, so now you want me to talk, tough guy? After you just fucked the goddamn life out of me?"

He shrugs, "I wouldn't say I fucked the life out of you... If that was the case, you wouldn't be standing upright."

You huff, frustrated, but loving every second of it.

"Just– grab me my damn jeans, Irwin."

He does as he's told, begrudgingly walking the short few feet to grab your jeans as you stand, cross-legged, bare-assed, with your back against the glass.

"Your majesty," he bows, holding your pants out on his arm like a knight with your crown.

"Thank you."

As you put on your jeans, Ashton watches you. With those whiskey, honeypot eyes. Scanning down every inch of you as you put one leg in, then the other.

"If it were up to me, I'd send you back down pants-less."

"Yeah, right." You scoff, reverting back to your old ways of a thumping heart and a pain in your chest, "You know how much trouble I'd be in?"

"Trouble by who? I'm your boss, aren't I?"

You puff, pulling up the zipper of your jeans, "You don't act like it."

"Want me to start then?" He quips.

"...No. Absolutely not."

Ashton tosses you a smile, not long before he's holding out his arms.

"That's what I thought, honey," he motions for you with his hands, "Now c'mere."

Without even thinking, almost as if it were rehearsed, you spin around, falling backwards into his arms. He wraps himself around you, broad biceps squeezing your shoulders like a butterfly in its' cocoon.

The Manhattan night sky was twinkling with lights and stars. You stare out into it, and he does too.

As you stand cradled in his arms with the lingering of pitiful, degrading sex still in the air, you sat in your thoughts for a moment.

What happened tonight couldn’t have been a mistake. You had been speaking it into existence for so long, that it finally became a reality. From the way he so passionately kissed you, to the way he so effortlessly dropped everything to fuck you like you were worthless. Just like you had asked. Just liked you had intended.

But you knew, despite everything that happened tonight, that not a single thing would change. 

Your heart would still flutter out of your ribcage whenever he walked by. You’d still answer his calls late at night, or spare him passing glances in the concert halls.

You’d still come to meet him, no matter when or where. All with that same, God awful weight on your chest.

It all made you feel terrible. Everything about him made you feel terrible.

But you were willing to get used to that feeling.

To be completely honest with yourself…

You kind of liked it. 

It felt like being in love

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