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weasleysicon · 6 years ago

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Conspicuous [Greaser!Ashton One Shot]

requested?: no

a/n: hello all, i’ve been very sad and stressed lately so i’ve decided to write a greaser!ashton one shot to fill that empty void in my life. the picture attached straight up gave me the inspiration. enjoy! i also recently hit 400 followers and i would like to thank everybody so much! i love u guys

warnings: language, violence, mention of violence, smut (i’ve never written smut before so i’m S ORRY if it seems a little awkward)

word count: 7.6k (this is the longest thing i have ever written in my enTIRE EXISTENCE)

another a/n: shoutout to my love, sierra (@cosmocalum), for helping me with this one shot when i was really stuck! love u buggy <3

Conspicuous, 1: standing out so as to be clearly visible. 2: attracting notice or attention.

1956

“SO, HEARD YOU’RE getting out today,” his cellmate, Vinny, piped from across their small shared cell. Ashton turned his attention away from the book he was reading, looking at the blonde man across from him.

“Seems that t’be that way,” he added quietly, not in the mood to have a conversation. Ashton Irwin was arrested for tagging and petty theft in 1953, leaving his entire life behind. He had everything he could’ve ever wanted, he was planning on finally giving the love of his life the promise ring his mother passed on to him, his family was finally opening their hearts to him, and he was surrounded with quite possibly the best people he could imagine.

He could still remember the day he was arrested; he could remember the look on his girl’s face as the cops busted into his small apartment and took him away from her, for three years.

“What are you gonna do once you’re a free man?” Vinny questioned, attempting to keep the conversation going.

“What kind of dumbass question is that, Vin?” Ashton grimaced, disgusted by such a question. He looked at Vin, who was holding a look of general wonder. He sighed, “if you must know, I’m going to get my girl. I know she’s been waiting for me all these years.”

“Irwin, she ain’t wait for you, bud.” Vinny wasn’t trying to sound like an asshole, but he felt that Ashton deserved the truth. “No girl ever waits for their fella in prison, no matter how much she loved you.”

Ashton turned his head back to the book, “she waited for me, Vin, I know she did.”

-------

“Irwin, up! You’re out,” the guard sounded as he pulled open the cell door. Ashton closed the book he was reading and stood up to finally get out and find his girl. As he was walking through the corridor, some of the inmates were cheering, the others jeering. All of the words of anything but affirmation rolled off his back, he was getting out and they weren’t. Nearing the front desk, Ashton could see his best friend, Calum, sitting in the waiting room. A smile painted across his face, happy that someone came to get him. Rounding the corner to the desk, Ashton was presented with papers that he had to sign stating that he understood his parole and he was passed a bag with his belongings.

“Hey, mate,” Calum’s thick, gruff Australian voice sounded through his ears. Calum stood up from where he was standing to envelop his best friend in a hug, which Ashton very happily returned. “I’ve missed you, man. Streets ain’t been the same without you,” Calum said. He wasn’t lying, their small group of four hadn’t been the same once their key member was jailed, considering Ashton was like their leader in a sense.

Ashton flashed a small smile, “let’s go, Hood, I got things to do.”

As they neared Calum’s car, Ashton smiled again. “Still got your old Hudson Hornet? Nice to know that things haven’t changed much,” Ashton mused. Calum cracked a smile as he unlocked the doors and the two men slid into the car.

“What’re you gonna do now that you’re out?” Calum sounded, starting the engine. Ashton was ripping open the plastic bag and grabbed out the only two things he had on his person at the time of his arrest: his leather jacket, and his wallet. After sliding on the black jacket, he opened his wallet and took out the small picture he had.

“I’m gonna go see Sweet Pea, she’s gonna be over the moon that I’m out,” Ashton said quietly. He could’ve sworn he heard Calum’s breath hitch at the mention of Sweet Pea. The smile Ashton had on his face faltered a bit, “Calum, what’s wrong?”

“Mate, no one’s heard from Sweet Pea since you got locked up. She stopped coming around,” Calum said quietly, scared that if he said it any louder that Ashton would blow up.

Ashton’s head snapped away from the picture and towards Calum. She what!? He really had no words. She always told him that they were together forever, that they would always wait for each other, no matter what. “That’s… impossible. Maybe she just didn’t wanna hang out with you three dodo birds without me, take me to her house.”

Driving down the street couldn’t have been more awkward for Calum. He’d only scraped the surface of everything that’s changed. He didn’t even tell him the worst part of Sweet Pea dropping him, and honestly, he didn’t want to.

As they pulled up to her folk’s house, Ashton swung the door open and almost flew up the stairs to the porch. Upon knocking, the sound of laughter could be heard from inside and Ashton’s heart skipped a beat, that was his girl’s laugh. Knocking on the door, his heart was pounding in his chest. The door swung open, revealing some schmuck who didn’t look like he belonged in the house. “And who are you?” this mystery guy questioned.

A grimace took over Ashton’s face, “none of your business, where’s Sweet Pea?” As soon as he said her name, she appeared from behind the man, a worried look on her face.

“It’s okay, Johnny, it’s just Ashton,” she said, grabbing onto Johnny’s bicep. “Go wait for me in the kitchen, love, I’ll only be a minute,” as soon as she muttered those words, Johnny pressed a light kiss to her lips, causing Ashton’s eyes to almost bug out of his eyes. What in the actual fuck? Why is he kissin’ my girl? My girl! “Ashton--”

“Sweet Pea? What’s goin’ on?” Ashton asked. He couldn’t believe what was going on. His girl, with another man, kissing him and calling him love. “I just got out, babe, I’m here to take you home,” Ashton said, stepping closer, attempting to pull her into him. Sweet Pea backed away from him, rejecting his gesture with a swat of her hand.

“No, Ashton.” She ran a hand through her hair, trying to formulate the words she needed to get her point across to him. “You weren’t there for me, what was I supposed to do? Johnny’s good to me, Ash. He loves me, takes care of me, and most of all, he doesn’t get into trouble,” she explained. She wanted to wait for Ashton, she really did, but she couldn’t take the pain of not knowing if he was okay or not, if he was staying alive in prison or getting killed in the courtyard.

“You don’t belong with him, darling, he’s a fuckin’ preppy. He can’t protect you like I can, you know that, Sweet Pea,” Ashton tried to reason, stepping closer to her once again. When he reached for her again, he was met with Johnny stepping in front of her.

“I can do her one better, Greaseball,” Johnny taunted. “I can provide a life for her. The only thing you can provide for her is pain and danger, whereas I can give her the life of luxury a beautiful woman like her deserves--”

“You know nothing of our fuckin’ relationship, so I’d back up if I were you, you trust fund baby,” Ashton interjected, about halfway to sending Johnny to the emergency room with a broken nose.

“I know plenty, asshole. Get back in your buddy’s little car and tag a wall or something, trash,” Johnny finished, holding his arm out so Ashton couldn’t shuffle any closer to her. “She doesn’t love you, man--”

“Johnny, plea--” Sweet Pea tried to silence them, knowing now that Johnny was trying to get a rise out of Ashton.

“Men are talking, Sweet Pea. Go to the kitchen and find your mother,” Johnny turned his head ever so slightly to give her a hardened look. “I think you should leave, Trailer Trash.”

As Ashton was starting to step down the stairs, he turned around to glance at Sweet Pea once more, a look of sadness washing over his face. “You always said you’d wait, Sweet Pea, no matter what. You lied to me,” Ashton whispered the last part, scared that if he said it any louder, he would cry, which he did not want to do. Sliding back into Calum’s car, he let out an exasperated sigh and ran his fingers through his hair.

“For what it’s worth, mate, you still have us,” Calum said, trying to lighten up the mood.

Ashton whipped his head to Calum, “shut the fuck up and drive, Hood.”

-------

“So he just showed up three years later—fresh out of jail—to… what? Try to get you back?” Rosie asked. Rosie was Sweet Pea’s long term best friend who knew every nook and cranny of Sweet Pea’s history with Ashton. It wasn’t hard to see the confusion in her eyes, this wasn’t a normal situation.

Sweet Pea swirled the tea around in her mug as they sat in the small diner on the Northside of town. Ever since Ashton was jailed, Sweet Pea steered clear of the Southside, scared that she might run into Ashton’s gang. “Yes! Then Johnny tried to pick a fight with him, calling him Trailer Trash and Greaseball, it just- it wasn’t good, Rose.”

“I can’t fucking stand Johnny.”

“Rose!”

“Well, it’s true. He needs to get off his high horse. You’ve been with him for, what, 11 months? You were with Ashton for 4 and a half years! Johnny doesn’t have shit on him,” Rosie expressed. Truth be told, Sweet Pea did feel something when she saw Ashton for the first time in three years. He was the first man she ever loved; he taught her how to be daring, showed her what true passion was. She could never forget that, no matter how much she wanted to.

She was angry at Ashton for getting himself locked up, yes, but he didn’t deserve to be dragged the way Johnny did. “I-I have to go, Rose. There’s something I need to take care of,” Sweet Pea blurted as she abruptly stood up from the booth and placed a few dollars on the table for her tea. She needed to talk to Ashton, to hear him out, without Johnny around. She didn’t know how she was going to do it, but dammit, it needed to happen soon.

-------

“I’m sorry about that, man,” said Calum to his best friend, “what happened at Sweet Pea’s house this morning was uncalled for, you didn’t deserve that.” Calum was right. What happened at Sweet Pea’s house was uncalled for, but there was nothing he could do about it. Ashton appreciated having a friend like Calum though, he was always there and although sometimes he’s a little moody, he always made sure his friends and family were taken care of.

“It’s okay, Cal,” Ashton reassured. He sighed, he didn’t know what he could do to get her back, not when she’s with that fuckboy preppy. “I just-- I need to take my mind off of her. Would you mind taking me to my parents house? I need to apologize for not talking to them for three years.”

“Ashton--”

“I don’t have time to argue about this. Just take me, please, Calum,” Ashton pleaded. Calum obliged, as the two men walked out of Calum’s small apartment.

Pulling up to Ashton’s family home, he felt the same excitement and worry he felt as when they pulled up to Sweet Pea’s house earlier that day. Ashton didn’t keep in contact with his family while he was in jail, too afraid of the disappointment and the stress he’d be putting his mother and siblings through. As Calum’s car sat on the curb, Ashton stayed staring at the house. There was a different car in the driveway, which Ashton just waved off as the possibility of his mother purchasing a new car. But then he saw it. The curtains were drawn back and he had the perfect view of the inside of the house, where he saw a little old man cross into the living room and sit in a big arm chair that he also did not recognize. Ashton was… confused, to say the least. “What in the,” he whispered to himself as he unbuckled his seat belt.

“What are you doing, Ash?” Calum questioned, ready to stop his friend from going and scaring this poor old man.

Ashton looked at Calum for a split second before directing his stare back at the house. “I need to see who that is and why the fuck he’s in my mother’s house.” As Ashton was getting ready to open the car door, Calum placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Listen, man, this is going to be hard to hear,” said Calum, “your family moved out of town about a year and a half ago, nobody knows why or where they moved to.” At this, shock took over Ashton’s body. He slowly pulled the car door closed and sat there, shell shocked. His family left him.

“Th-They left me?” Ashton said in the smallest voice. Ashton wasn’t one to cry but dammit, this was the straw that broke the camel's back.

“Ash—“

“No, Calum, they fuckin’ left me! First, the love of my life decides to replace me with some preppy asshole and now my family up and left me! I have no one, man, no one!” Wiping a few stray tears off his cheeks, Ashton sniffled and the look on his face hardened.

“Ashton, you’re not alone, mate. You have me, you know my apartment is open to you,” Calum said quietly, “why don’t we get drinks tonight, huh? Might do ya some good.”

The ride to the bar was filled with silence, neither of them knowing the correct words to say. Ashton was a little more on edge, with good reason. The ride seemed to be going on a little longer than Ashton had remembered, noticing that they entered the part of town where Luke and Michael lived. Luke and Michael lived more on the Eastside of town, whereas Calum—and now Ashton—lived on the Southside of Grand Haven. “What are we doing, man?” Ashton asked, “I thought we were going to the bar.”

“We are, Ash, we’re just doing something first,” Calum assured him.

At this point, Ashton could add skeptical to the list of emotions he was currently feeling. “I can see that, but my question was what are we doing?” Ashton emphasized the question, hoping that Calum would catch onto the hint of annoyance in his voice. Calum did not.

“Just-- you’ll see, mate,” Calum said to his best friend, “you’ll see.”

Ashton sighed. “I fucking hate surprises, Hood.”

It turns out that exactly what Ashton thought was happening, was happening. They had picked up Michael and Luke to join them at the bar for the night. He wasn’t explicitly angry, he loved Michael and Luke to pieces, he just hadn’t told them that he was released from prison, much less anything else that was currently going on.

The rest of the car ride was awkward, to say the least. It was filled with small talk, mostly from Calum and the other two, with occasional head nods from Ashton to show he was still down on Earth with them. Every once and awhile, one of the boys would attempt to converse with Ashton about how he was doing, with no prevail.

About three hours later, Ashton was feeling light on his feet. He typically wasn’t one to get drunk quickly but not having a single drink for three years really changes a person's tolerance. Although he was feeling better, his thoughts were still consumed by Sweet Pea. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to get up begin walking towards the exit of the bar, leather jacket in hand, but that’s exactly what he was doing. He didn’t get far, as one of the boys tried to grab his bicep to stop him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa where are you going, mate?” Michael asked, trying to pull his friend back to where everyone else was.

“I’m goin-- I just need a breath of fresh air, mate,” Ashton said, “I’ll be back.” Knowing that he couldn’t keep him from going outside, Michael let him. As Ashton was standing outside, it seemed as if his brain and his feet were moving on autopilot. He wasn’t sure if what he was doing was the right thing, but the alcohol in his system was telling him otherwise. The bar they were currently at was located in the central part of Grand Haven, towards the back, but Ashton has made this walk many a time. The February air was quite chilly tonight, but his leather jacket kept him warm enough, as well as the alcohol in him. Walking down the street, Ashton was all in his head. He wasn’t quite sure of what he was going to say yet, he just knew he had to go to her.

About halfway to the Northside of town, the once busy streets of Grand Haven began to quiet down, as everyone was off of work and inside their homes. It was beginning to get colder as well, as it was nearing the later part of night. The walk from the bar to Sweet Pea’s house wasn’t very far, it was just taking Ashton longer since he was intoxicated and worrying about how he was walking so he wouldn’t trip and fall. He was so caught up in his own mind, he almost didn’t register the hand slamming on his shoulder. “Cal, mate--”

“Did you not hear me, Greaseball?” Ashton turned around to be face to face with some random townie. “Go back to your dumpster.”

Ashton blinked, suddenly it seemed as if the alcohol in his veins was leaving his body. “Excuse me?” He was confused for two reasons: why this person decided to bother him, and why in the hell did this townie think it was fine putting his hands on him?

“You don’t belong here,” the townie once again repeated. Ashton felt his face heat up, who was this person to say whether or not he belonged somewhere? Why does it matter? What was Ashton doing that bothered this person so much?

“Sorry you feel that way, mate,” Ashton said, “bye.” The townie obviously wasn’t pleased with Ashton’s tone of voice, seeing as he once again grabbed his shoulder and shoved him. If Ashton wasn’t already fuming, he sure in hell was now. As he turned around, he scowled at the person behind him. “What the fu--”

Ashton’s words were met with a fist straight to his mouth. Is this piece of shit townie really trying to pick a fight? It didn’t take long for him to react, swinging at the townie himself. Ashton let the anger that had been boiling in his body all day take over, swinging relentlessly at the guy, receiving a few punches to the gut and cheek himself. Ashton wasn’t going to stop until the man was on the floor and would leave him alone. With a few more swings to the stomach and chin, the townie was sent to the ground groaning. “Fucking hell,” Ashton muttered as he turned around to leave the man on the ground.

“You’re on the wrong side of town,” the townie groaned as he stood to his feet. Shouldn’t I be saying that? Ashton thought in his head as he turned around to once again come face to face with the townie. How in the fuck did he get up? The townie snickered, “you’re gonna regret coming back.” He reached into the pocket of his blue jeans and pulled out a switchblade, smirking at Ashton.

“What the fuck?” Ashton said, stepping back. The townie stepped forwards once again, swinging the switchblade, slashing him on his stomach. Ashton doubled over in pain, hand gripping his stomach. The townie swung again, this time slitting Ashton’s cheek. Shit, if Ashton thought he was in pain now, this was excruciating.

The townie crouched down to Ashton’s level, smirking, “you’re trash,” he spat, “go back to prison where you belong.”

-------

The sound of the doorbell startled Sweet Pea from the half sleep state she was in. She glanced at the clock on the wall above the television set, 2:54 AM. She blinked a couple times, wondering who was at the door at such a late hour into the night. She flicked on the porch light, looking through the peephole. Ashton. It’s Ashton.

Sweet Pea quickly unlocked the front door and swung it open, to reveal a hurt Ashton. He half smiled upon seeing her, as that was all he could do without doubling over in pain. “Ashton,” she began, pulling her robe tighter around her as the chilly February breeze hit her unexpectedly, “are you okay? Let me take a look at you.”

Listening to her, Ashton sauntered over to Sweet Pea. She lifted her hands, running her fingers along his cheek, where the new slash made home. As her finger ran across it, Ashton hissed “Gentle, love,” he whispered, afraid that if he spoke too loud he’d scare the small, doe-eyed woman in front of him.

“Come on, let's get you cleaned up, okay?” She asked, carefully gripping his bicep so she could pull him inside her house. Sweet Pea lead him into the small kitchen and had him sit the table so she could get the first aid kit to tend to his wounds. Walking over to him ripping open an alcohol pad with his teeth, she looked into Ashton’s eyes for the first time that night. There was something in them she couldn’t exactly pinpoint; she didn’t know what she was doing. Here she was in her kitchen, cleaning up her ex-boyfriend-slash-ex-con after what seemed to be a bad fight at nearly 3 AM. “This is going to sting a little,” she warned him before bringing the alcohol wipe to his split lip to clean off the dried blood. Once again Ashton hissed, pleading Sweet Pea to be gentle, to which she replied with a small smile.

“I’m sorry,” Ashton started, “I shouldn’t have come to bother you, love.”

Sweet Pea sighed, “what happened to you?”

“I was at the bar with Calum and the boys and I needed to come see yo--”

“No, Ashton,” she said to him with her eyes shut as if she was trying to figure out what the right words were to say, “I’m not talking about tonight. I’m talking about in general. What happened to the man I once knew? My Ashton would not have gotten himself locked up.”

“Sweet Pea, please,” Ashton said. He’d been waiting to tell her why he got put into prison in the first place for the longest time, he just… he didn’t know how. How was he supposed to tell the love of his life that he was caught shoplifting when he already had a warrant on a tagging charge? “This is gonna be really hard for me to say, doll,” Ashton told the woman in front of him, looking at him with a sense of worry that Ashton could detect a mile away, “I was arrested on a petty theft charge when I already had a warrant out for tagging.”

“You… what? You had a warrant out for your arrest?” Sweet Pea was in shock, to say the least. She hung her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. Ashton had never felt more guilt for anything in his entire life and seeing Sweet Pea this incredibly disappointed in him made everything worse. “What’d you try n’ steal, Ash?”

“What?” Ashton asked, taken aback by her words.

“You heard me,” she said, “what did you try to steal?”

Ashton took a deep breath, “medication for Harry.” Little Harry Dawkins was Ashton’s youngest sibling, only twelve at the time of Ashton’s arrest. “He was-he was sick. Mum couldn’t afford the medication for him, I couldn’t afford the medication for him. I wasn’t going to let my little brother be in pain, doll, you know how much my siblings mean to me,” Ashton said quietly, lowering his head in shame. He looked at the floor and then slowly raised his head to make eye contact with Sweet Pea. “I’m angry at myself for getting arrested and leaving my family and leaving you for three years, but I’d do it again. If it meant Harry or Lauren or you were getting what you needed, then fuck, I’d steal anything.”

Sweet Pea felt her stomach tie itself into knots at his words. Ashton always has been a family man. “I understand,” she told him, “you shouldn’t have stolen, though. You could have come to me, love, my parents would’ve been more than happy to get Harry the medication, they have the money for it.”

“I was supposed to provide for you, Sweet Pea, not the other way around,” Ashton said, head hanging low once again.

As much as she would like to suppress it, Sweet Pea couldn’t ignore the feelings she still felt for Ashton in her heart. This was the man she was with for almost five years, how could she not still feel something for him? Sure, he was in jail for three years and she’s with Johnny now but she couldn’t help but think of that would happen if she gave Johnny, and possibly her family up, all for Ashton.

By that morning, Ashton was long gone. Sweet Pea offered for him to sleep on the couch, seeing as he was in no shape to be on his own, which he was thankful for, he just didn’t want her family to find him in the morning. After she cleaned him up, they spent hours catching up and laughing about old stories from when they were still together. Although he wasn’t afraid to admit it, he was scared of his feelings for Sweet Pea. He knew he still loved her, of course he did, but she was with someone new and he had to respect that. As much as he wanted to swoop her into his arms and kiss both of their pain away, he knew that’d only cause more tension.

-------

Ashton walked into the small diner that morning, he quickly caught sight of his three friends sitting in a booth towards the back. As he was walking to them, Luke looked up and smiled when he saw his friend. “Hey, fellas,” Ashton said as he slid into the booth next to Luke. Looking at the boys, Ashton could tell that Michael was nursing a hangover, as well as Luke.

“What happened to you last night?” Calum asked Ashton, “you can’t just disappear like that, man.You look horrible.” Ashton let out a huff. He knew that Calum was just looking out for his best interest, but holy shit, Ashton was a grown man who could take care of himself. Worry about yourself, Calum.

“I went to see Sweet Pea,” Ashton started. Upon hearing that, all of the boys suddenly perked up. “On my way there, some random townie stopped me, talking about how I was in the ‘wrong part of town’ and then pulled a fucking blade on me.” As soon as he said the word blade, Michael’s eyes went wide.

“Dude, are you okay?” Michael asked.

Ashton laughed, “I’m fine, mate,” he said to Michael, “Sweet Pea cleaned my wounds for me.”

“Sweet Pea? She took care of you?” Calum asked, almost as if he didn’t believe what Ashton was saying. What’s that supposed to mean? Ashton tried to hide his annoyance, but he wasn’t always the best at hiding his facial expressions.

“Yes, Calum, she took care of me. After that we talked for hours. I explained what happened to her and then we spent some time catching up,” Ashton said, “it was really nice.”

“You sound like a lovesick puppy,” Luke chuckled.

“So what if I’m in love? It’s not like my feelings for her have faded away at all,” Ashton raised his voice. Who were they to criticize him spending time with Sweet Pea? Why did it matter if he was still in love with Sweet Pea or not?

“Mate, we’re not trying to piss you off or anything,” Luke started, “but you need to take a look at the situation. She’s in a relationship with someone else, who she probably loves. I know this is hard to hear, but you need to accept the fact that maybe she’s moved on from you.”

-------

“Mom, I need your advice,” said Sweet Pea, walking into the living room where her mother was sat in her chair with a cup of tea.

“Of course,” her mother said, setting down the romance novel she’d been reading. Sweet Pea’s mother was always the one person she knew she could always count on. Her mother gave the best advice which always had her best interest in mind.

“Don’t get mad at me, mom,” Sweet Pea said to her mother who now had furrowed eyebrows, “Ashton was over last night,” As soon as she mentioned Ashton, her mother's face went to normal, her lips forming into a small smile.

“I know that, honey,” her mother said, “I could hear your guy’s quiet laughter.”

“Mom!” Sweet Pea yelled, covering her face with her hands. “I need to ask you a question.”

“Shoot,” her mother already could guess what Sweet Pea was going to ask, but didn’t want to prod at her daughter, she wanted Sweet Pea to come to those revelations herself.

“When Ashton and I were talking, I-I felt something. Something that I haven’t ever felt being with Johnny,” Sweet Pea started. She wasn’t sure how exactly how to word her feelings to her mother, or even to herself. “I think-I think--”

“You’re still in love with Ashton,” Sweet Pea’s mother finished for her. As soon as the words escaped her mom’s mouth, her eyes went wide. “Don’t worry, sweetie, I already knew. How could you not still be in love with him? You were with him for almost five years, you wanted to plan a future with the man,” her mother said, and she was right. Before Ashton was jailed, Sweet Pea had sat down with both of her parents, explaining that she was in love with the ill-tempered Greaser who she saw a complete future with.

“I don’t know what to do, Mom,” Sweet Pea whispered, hanging her head down in frustration.

“You tell him, dear,” her mother said, “love is too beautiful of a thing to let go like that. If you don’t tell Ashton how you feel and you stay with Johnny, you’re going to regret that for the rest of your life.”

Sweet Pea took a deep breath, her mother was right. I need to tell Ashton, I need to tell Ashton, I need to tell Ashton. The sentence kept repeating itself in her head over and over again until they didn’t sound like words anymore. But what about Johnny? “Mom,” Sweet Pea said, “what about Johnny? Isn’t it not fair to him for me to leave him for someone he considers ‘trailer trash’?”

“It’s more fair for you to leave the relationship now then it’d be if you stayed with him while in love with another man,” her mother said. Sweet Pea always knew her mother had great advice, but it only seems that she is purely talking from the heart right now.

“Mom, you are really passionate about this,” she laughed at her mother. Her mother smiled fondly, looking over to photo of her and her husband.

“Honey, I was in another relationship when I realized I was in love with your father. If I wouldn’t have left that other man, I wouldn’t have your father and more importantly, I wouldn’t have you,” her mother explained. Sweet Pea wasn’t in shock, as opposed to just in awe of her mother. “You need to fight for love, Sweet Pea. And let me tell you, Ashton Irwin is worth fighting for.”

-------

A little over a week later, Johnny was sat at the dinner table with Sweet Pea and her parents. She’d been acting a little out of character tonight, with good reason. She had given a lot of thought to what her mother said and yes, she was going to end things with Johnny and confess her feelings to Ashton. How could she not? It wasn’t that Johnny wasn’t good to her, she just didn’t share the same chemistry with him that she has with Ashton.

The family ate in silence, the awkward tension rising in the room. Johnny very awkwardly cleared his throat and looked at Sweet Pea’s parents. “If I could have everyone’s attention, please,” he asked as he stood up from his seat, directing his attention to a very awkward looking Sweet Pea. “Sweet Pea, I love you. I know we haven’t been together very long, but I know we’re here to stay,” Johnny began, causing Sweet Pea and her mother’s eyes to almost bulge out of their heads. This cannot be happening. Sweet Pea whipped her head over to her mother, who was staring down at her plate, pushing the pot roast around. Helpful.

“Johnny, what are you doing?” She asked him. She had a feeling of what he was going to do, but she didn’t want to believe that’s what actually was happening.

Johnny sighed. “Let me finish, Sweet Pea,” he demanded. For someone who’s confessing their love, he’s awfully rude. “As I was saying, I wanna spend the rest of my life with you,” he said, moving from his seat the kneel in front of her. Sweet Pea couldn’t contain the gasp escaping from her mouth, as well as her mother. This was not happening right now. “Please, please, please marry me, Sweet Pea.”

She looked into his eyes for the first time that evening. This wasn’t the future she saw for herself. She didn’t see her elf as being a little housewife for a man who didn’t even appreciate her; she saw herself with someone who wants better for her and someone who was okay with the fact that Sweet Pea didn’t want the stereotypical family. Sweet Pea saw herself with someone much like Ashton. “I-I… Johnny, I need to talk to you,” she looked over at her parents, “alone.”

Sweet Pea’s parents excused themselves to the backyard, while Sweet Pea stayed seated in her chair. Johnny stood up and began pacing, which made Sweet Pea even more nervous. “What are we talking about?” Johnny asked, stopping so he was standing in front of her once again.

“Johnny,” Sweet Pea started nervously, “I don’t know how to tell you this.”

Johnny furrowed his eyebrows together, “tell me what?” His tone sounded a little harsher than Sweet Pea would like, not that she was surprised.

Sweet Pea closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. It’s now or never. Opening her eyes, she muttered, “I can’t marry you, Johnny.” As soon as the words fell past her lips, Johnny’s eyes went wide and his once blank stare was hardened.

“Oh yeah?” Johnny started, venom lacing his words. “And why is that?”

“I don’t- I don’t love you…” Sweet Pea whispered.

At that sentence, Johnny scoffed. “You don’t love me?” he shouted. “Who do you love? Hmm? I wanna know the truth.”

“Johnny, I-I--”

“No I know who, you love that fuckin’ Greaseball, don’t you?” he sneered. “That piece of shit can’t provide for you. I don’t know why you think that being with him is going to be easy, Sweet Pea,” Johnny laughed, “if you’d marry me, you wouldn’t have to work a day in your life. That Greaser can’t offer you that. You’ll be working more than he does.”

Sweet Pea stood up from her seat, blood boiling that he could ever talk about someone so amazing in such a demeaning tone. “You know what, Johnny? Yeah, I do love that ‘fuckin’ Greaseball’, who’s name is Ashton, by the way. That man has shown me more love in the four and a half years I was with them than an entire lifetime with you,” she spat. Johnny looked a little taken aback at the newfound attitude Sweet Pea has acquired. “Before you judge someone, why don’t you actually get to know them? Ashton has more kindness in his pinkie than you have in your entire body, his smile can light up a room, and fuck, you can lose yourself in that man’s eyes for hours.” She didn’t know why she was telling Johnny all of this, perhaps she was more so talking to herself at this point than to him. “I love that ill-tempered man with the sweetest heart,” she ended, looking back at Johnny’s hardened face, feeling absolutely disgusted with herself for putting up with him for as long as she did. Shaking her head, she began to walk down the hallway where her bedroom door was. Looking back one last time, she smirked, “you can leave now, Johnny.” And like that, she single handedly realized two things: Johnny was a piece of shit and that she was sure that Ashton Irwin was the love of her life.

-------

“You sure you don’t wanna go out with us, mate?” Calum asked Ashton. The boys had all been trying to convince Ashton to go to the bar with them again, but Ashton couldn’t bring himself to go.

Ashton flashed a small smile at his friends, “why don’t you guys just go? I’ll be fine here.” Not wanting to waste any more time, Calum just nodded and bid his best friend goodbye. Ashton sighed to himself, happy that he was finally alone.

Ever since the night that Sweet Pea took care of him, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. She was already always consuming his thoughts, now it was taken to the next level. He found that night at Sweet Pea’s house to be very therapeutic, knowing that it was probably time for her to know the truth.

For the next hour and a half or so, Ashton stared at the small black and white television set Calum had set up in the living room. The movie Casablanca was playing and Ashton couldn’t help but feel a sense of sadness. Sweet Pea absolutely loves this movie with her entire being, always watching it when it came on the television and of course forcing Ashton to watch it with her. Towards the end of the movie, there was a knock on the door, startling Ashton out of the relaxation he was previously feeling.

Standing up from the couch, Ashton went to the door and looked out the peephole. It can’t be. As if acting on autopilot, he swung the door open to reveal Sweet Pea. He looked her up and down, taking note of the upset look on her face. “Sweet Pea, love, why are you here?” Ashton asked her.

She looked up into his hazel eyes, and knew that it was time. “I need to talk to you, Ash,” she said to him, “it’s important.”

Upon hearing those words, Ashton’s heart rate picked up and he stood to the side, ushering Sweet Pea into Calum’s apartment. She looked around for a second, her eyes landing on the television set. “You’re watching Casablanca,” she smiled softly.

“Your favorite movie,” Ashton said to her. Sweet Pea turned her head away from the television and to Ashton once again in complete awe. He remembered.

As Ashton took a seat on the couch, Sweet Pea went over and sat down next to him. She didn’t exactly know how to tell him, but it shouldn’t be that hard, right? She had gotten over the obstacle of telling Johnny, but now she was faced with her biggest obstacle of all: telling Ashton her feelings. “So,” she awkwardly began, “Johnny proposed to me.”

Ashton’s eyes widened for a moment. She was goin’ to marry that piece of shit? “Oh-oh yeah? How’d that g--”

“I told him no, Ashton,” she interrupted him. Just then, she felt her breathing go slow. Ashton, on the other hand, swallowed one of the many lumps in his throat. “I told him no,” she repeated again, softer this time.

“You did?” Ashton asked. “Why?”

“Because he’s not the one I love,” she said, looking down at her lap. Sweet Pea looked up, looking gazes with Ashton, the confused expression very clearly painted on his face.

“He’s not the one you love…” Ashton pondered out loud, more to himself than to her.

Without thinking, Sweet Pea whispered, “I love you.” Had it not incredibly quiet in the apartment, the only noise coming from the television that was basically muted, Ashton could’ve missed the three words he’s been waiting to hear for the past three years. “You-you what? Really?” he asked.

Sweet Pea smiled, finally happy that she got what’s been eating her alive for the past week out into the open. “Of course I do, Ash,” she said, reaching her hand out to grasp his, “it’s you. It’s always been you.”

Ashton looked at her in complete and utter shock. He couldn’t believe that she actually said it to him. Sure, he knew she probably still had a little bit of love for her, but she was really good at hiding it. He closed his eyes, basking in the moment for a second. It was what Sweet Pea said next that made everything feel real.

“Ashton,” she said, catching him out of his own thoughts. “Kiss me. Kiss me as if it were the last time.” She was quoting the movie, and the line couldn’t be more fitting for the moment.

Ashton collided his lips with Sweet Pea’s in what seemed like the most desperate, romantic, lustful, and overdue kiss either one of them had ever experienced. It was rushed, but slow. Sloppy, yet beautiful. Neither of them had even realized that in all this time, this was what they needed.

They kissed each other as if their lives depended on it, and before too long, they were shedding one another of their clothing. Ashton’s head was spinning, as this was the happiest he’s felt in the last three years. Heaven. This must be what Heaven feels like.

When Sweet Pea rid herself of her top, Ashton’s pink lips attached to her chest, sucking and marking her as his, leaving a fiery trail in his wake. Sweet Pea let a moan escape her lips, which was music to Ashton’s ears. He could feel himself getting more and more excited as the minutes were passing by, the excitement building in his stomach.

When Ashton flipped the two of them, so she was now beneath him, he finally pulled down both his trousers and his boxers in one swift movement. Ashton sighed at the simple relief he found from just freeing himself from the confines of his pants. He then pulled Sweet Pea’s pants and underwear down and sat up, smiling at her. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he said to her, making the heat rise to her cheeks as she pulled Ashton by his face down to hers to catch him in a messy kiss. As their lips moved in sync, Ashton trailed his hand down her body, stopping at her heat. When he slipped his fingers through her folds, Sweet Pea let out a squeaky moan, fueling Ashton to go further. “You’re so wet for me, doll,” he rasped lowly, “just for me.”

“Just for you,” she quietly moaned. Her moans grew louder and louder and Ashton began to pump his finger in and out of her, preparing her enough to handle his length. When Ashton decided to finally stop building the anticipation, he reached over to the coffee table and pulled the condom from his wallet. Sweet Pea chuckled, “I hope that condom isn’t three years old.” Ashton chuckled back at her awkward comment, sliding the condom on and lining himself up at her entrance.

He looked down at Sweet Pea, clutching her hips and finally pushing himself into her, earning a loud moan from her, to which Ashton replied with a low growl. As Ashton began to thrust, he felt all of his problems fade away. Here he was, with the woman he loves, who loves him back, sharing one of their most romantic moments. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

They were a mess of tongue, sweat, and the sound of skin slapping skin mixed with her soft moans became the soundtrack to the moment. Sweet Pea was nearing her orgasm, Ashton chasing his own, with his thrusts becoming less rhythmic and sloppier.

As Sweet Pea reached her high, squealing a moan, Ashton wasn’t far behind her. Letting a few curse words fall past his lips, he reached his own high with a sigh of relief. When he pulled out of her, Sweet Pea let out a quiet gasp from the sudden empty feeling. Ashton pulled off his condom, throwing it into the trash bin across the living room, taking time to pull on his boxers. He once again took his place on the couch and handed Sweet Pea her panties and his t-shirt, in case the boys came back earlier than he hoped.

And as Ashton and Sweet Pea were laying on the couch, post-sex, neither one of them had ever been more in love than in this moment. He placed a sweet kiss to her forehead, which was lightly covered in sweat, to which Sweet Pea cuddled deeper into his side. “I love you,” he whispered to her, “so fuckin’ much.”

Sweet Pea smiled up at him, “I love you more.”

taglist: @cosmocalum @roselukes @hotmessmichael @fucking5sos @calumculture @ohhmuke @ghostofch @kinglycalum @notoriouslyhood @slimthicccal @calntynes @astroashtonio @glitterprincelu @catchinqcalum @irwinkitten @talkfastfletcher @monsteramongmikey @hereforlukescruff

feedback is appreciated!

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lilacsos · 6 years ago

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Glory Days: Greaser AI Part 1

A/N: So, this is the first part of a story I came up with! Thanks to my dad, @heartbreak-5sos , for helping me out with this. I’m actually pretty excited about this series I have planned up. I made the like moodboard up there for the story. Anyway, I would love any and all feedback!

Words: 4.3k (yikes)

Pairing: Eventual greaser!Ashton Irwin x OC Nova McAlister

*Warnings*: Swearing, ghosts, ouiji boards, mediums, witches, mentions of violence and shooting

Summary: Nova and her boyfriend Calvin recently moved into a house that Nova bought. Everything was going great until Nova began to hear funny sounds, see shadows, and find cold spots in her new home. After some research, she learned that the leader of the South Side greaser gang in the 50s, Ashton Irwin, died in her home. Now in order to make him leave, she is faced with the task of bringing him back to life

Masterlist Wanna be tagged?

After years and years and years of saving, Nova McAlister finally saved enough money to buy her own home. She was beyond thrilled especially since she would be living in her new home with her long-time boyfriend Calvin. The two had been an on and off again couple since they were 17. Recently, they’ve been on a good streak and have been ‘on’ for about four years. Now that Nova is 23 and Calvin is 25, they feel secure in their relationship and like they are really in it for the win. Which is how they came to the conclusion to buy the house together. With the keys to her new home in hand, Nova pushed open the front door, taking in her new home. It was a simple house. Originally it was built in 1950 but it had been renovated in 2015 to make it more appealing to the general public. A family bought it right after it went on the market and they lived there for a little over three years before they sold the house as well. Nova wasn’t quite sure why they sold the house, but it was going for a good price and there wasn’t much work to be done so she bought it. It was a simple two-bedroom one-bathroom house with kitchen tucked in the back along with a small nook the previous family used as a dining room. Each bedroom had a sizable closet and enough room for a queen-sized bed to fit comfortably. Down below in the basement was a washer and dryer. There was no garage for the car but there was a driveway, so Nova didn’t mind. The kitchen was remodeled and now had all the newer appliances, the heater and air conditioner were in great shape, and all the plumbing was new. She didn’t think it could get any better. Calvin wasn’t thrilled with the house but considering the fact that it was Nova who paid for it all, he didn’t get a say. Nova squealed as she saw all their boxes and furniture sitting in the empty space that would soon be their living room. In her joy, she spun around and threw her arms around Calvin.

“This place is perfect!” She kissed his cheek before she ran into her new home, her fingers running over the walls. They would be making so many memories here and she couldn’t wait to get started on that. “The internet guy said he would be here tomorrow to get started on hooking all of that up for us.” She whispered, feeling arms wrap around her waist.

“You really like this place don’t you Nova?” Calvin asked, kissing the side of her neck.

“Of course I do!” She spun around to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “This place is perfect. Especially since I get to share it with you.” She gave him a quick peck on the lips before she slipped out of his arms and went to look at all the boxes. “Now, you know what would make this place even more perfect?”

Calvin, already knowing her answer, rolled his eyes. Just to humor her, he asked, “what’s that?”

“You help me with these boxes. I need your muscles.” She laughed and made her way to the large pile of boxes cluttering the new house

Nova dropped down onto the couch and sighed deeply. “I am so glad you could move the big stuff.”

“Oh, I’m sure you could have done it too my love.” Calvin came to sit next to her, pulling her feet onto his lap. “What else do we have to do to make this place amazing?”

Nova thought it out, wondering just what this place was missing. It had the charm, clearly. It now had furniture. The internet and phone would be set up tomorrow. Besides some little décor items, she didn’t see anything missing. “I don’t think it needs anything.” She smiled up at him.

Calvin hummed in thought before he shook his head. “I think it’s missing something.”

“Really? What is it?” She asked, suddenly worried she had forgotten something important.

“We need to make some memories here,” he whispered, moving her feet off of his lap and onto the floor as he began to crawl on top of her, “and I know just the one to start with.”

Nova and Calvin laid in bed, her playing with his fingers and him playing with her hair. “You know I love your hair,” Calvin whispered as he twirled the strands around his fingers. “Love the color, love the curls, love the smell.”

“You’re so weird.” Nova laughed and pushed his hand away from her. “You really love the color though?” Nova had grown up in a very beachy city where everyone always had beautiful blonde, beach wavy hair. Nova had dark brown, very close to black, hair and some of the craziest curls you’d ever seen. Hermione has nothing on her. So, of course, this was an insecurity she had growing up, knowing she didn’t look like all the other girls she knew and went to school with. Once she reached 15, she bleached her hair and she was blonde for a while, but she didn’t like it. Took a major change for her to realize that she likes her hair the way it always was. Of course she can still get insecure about it which might be the reason Calvin seemed to mention how much he loved it so often.

“Course I do. I love everything about you.” Calvin kissed her cheek and smiled, pulling her close to his chest. “I happen to think you’re perfect.”

The first few nights in the house were amazing, to say the least. Nova loved every second of it and once the internet had been hooked up, she loved it even more. Nova had been working for the local newspaper for the last few years, writing stories and such. Her real dream was to be an author but for now, the newspaper was great. She hardly had to go to an office to work which was great. She could stay home in her pajamas as long as she wanted. Life was good. She had a great boyfriend, a job she loved, and now she had an amazing house that was all hers. Really, she couldn’t think of anything that could go wrong. Ok, she could think of a lot of things that could go wrong but she didn’t want to dwell on the bad things that could happen. She wanted to focus on the good things that had already happened. Her and Calvin got started making memories right away, planning for the future, discussing repainting the walls, and even adding another room. So far, things seemed perfect. Of course Nova couldn’t stop the nagging words that seemed to creep into her mind constantly. Calvin worked for a tow truck company, so he was often gone during the days and even was on call during the night. It made life a little harder knowing that sometimes she could wake up at two in the morning and find his side of the bed empty. She knew he would never leave her for someone else or anything like that, but it didn’t stop the worries. After all, back when Nova was 18 and Calvin was 20, they were on a break and he slept with some girl. The fight the two had was huge and there had been a lot of yelling. Nova cried more that night than she had in the past month. Calvin yelled at her for thinking that because they were on a break that meant they couldn’t see other people. It wasn’t that Nova thought he couldn’t see someone new, she just didn’t think he would do that the day of their break up. That was their longest break up as the two were separated for about six months. Calvin spent those six months with the girl he had slept with and Nova spent them on her own, going to school to get her mind off of whatever the love of her life was doing. After their break, Calvin came back to Nova and asked if they could get back together. It was no surprise when Nova agreed and soon, they were back to acting like lovesick teenagers. However, their relationship was never the same after that. Nova was always worried that one wrong move would cause Calvin to leave her. She never brought up their break anymore because whenever she did, Calvin would go off on her. That wasn’t the worst for her though. Whenever Nova asked if he had been seeing someone else, he would begin yelling at her and blaming her for being worried and not trusting him. Sometimes when he really wasn’t in a good mood, he would break up with her. Nova knew this wasn’t how most relationships worked but this was hers and she wanted it to last. So, she put up with it. She put up with the yelling and the fighting and the constant breakups.

A sudden sound brought Nova from her thoughts, causing her to spin around in her chair and look for the source of the noise. It sounded like a door or a window had slammed closed. That didn’t make any sense to her. There had been no open doors or windows, at least not that she knew of. She carefully stood, adjusting the waistband of her shorts before she began wandering around the house. Nova kept her eyes peeled for anything that looks like it could have been an open door or window. She stopped at each door and window, checking everything she could find. It seemed like nothing had been opened so she made her way back to her seat. Right as she sat down, she heard a loud crash and she spun around. There on the floor behind her was a broken vase. Glass and water scattered the floor. That vase hadn’t been anywhere near the edge of the table. She made sure of that because she was pretty clumsy. If anything breakable was too close to an edge of a table or anything else, would end up on the floor with Nova around. With a soft sigh, she made her way over to the broom and dustpan and began sweeping up the glass. Something wasn’t right about this. It was just her in the house so how on earth did something like this happen? She carefully dumped the glass and did one last check of the floor before returning to her seat. She started to work on her assignment for the paper again when it began to get very cold. “What the hell?” She whispered to herself and took note that she could see her own breath now. This wasn’t right. Something was off and she didn’t like it. Nova began to do some digging online, looking for an answer to what all of this could mean. Random sounds, falling vases, and now a sudden chill to the room? What the fuck is this? It didn’t take Nova long to find her answer. “Ghosts?” That makes no sense because ghosts aren’t real. Ghosts and demons and witches are not real. Sure there are people that claim they can do magic but they’re either liars or they’re crazy. Nova quickly shut her laptop and step away from the desk. She needed to clear her mind and get out of this house for a minute.

She threw on some clothes she wouldn’t mind being seen in and made her way outside, making sure to lock the door before she left. She stuffed her hands in her pockets as she began walking. She had no idea where she was going but she knew she just needed to clear her head. She had to get this paper done by tomorrow and she wasn’t going to be able to do that if she was worried about something that doesn’t exist. At the end of the street, Nova could see a book store and she decided that would be a good place to go. She could always use new books to read. Within a few minutes, she made her way inside and began wandering the aisles, not really looking for anything in particular. At the very back of the room, she saw a glass case that was locked. Curiosity got the best of her and she took a look at what was inside. On the shelves in the case were tarot cards, books on spells and astrology, and right in the middle was a Ouija Board. At first, she rolled her eyes at the discovery but the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to buy the board. Ghosts aren’t real so if she got the board it really wouldn’t mean anything, but she could test it out and see if maybe, possibly, there was something in her house. No, that’s absurd. She doesn’t need one because there is no such thing as ghosts. She quickly turned around and made her way out of the store, not wanting to waste any more time here. Nova kept her head down as she walked home, not wanting to see anything that could make her think of ghosts or anything else that isn’t real.

After struggling to get the key into the lock, she finally made it inside and took a look around the place. Nothing seemed to be out of place so she could only assume she was overreacting.

The rest of the first week in the house went smoothly. Nothing fell and broke and there were no more slamming doors. Calvin had really grown to like the place and Nova couldn’t be happier. It was pretty obvious when she first bought the house that he didn’t like it but now it must have grown on him. It was nice having her own place with her boyfriend. Before this, the two were in a one-bedroom apartment in the middle of downtown. There was never any peace and silence and her neighbors were quite the party animals. Now that they lived in a nice little neighborhood, they didn’t have to worry about any of that. So far, the only downside was it was a further walk to the city hall where the newspaper had their office, not that Nova minded. Walking was one of her favorite things to do so a long walk just meant more time. So even the downside was good to her. This place was perfect.

“I’ll see you when you get home,” Nova mumbled and gave Calvin one last kiss as she waved him off to go to work. She stood in the doorway until he was out of sight and then she began making herself some breakfast. Calvin liked to pick up food when he had an early call so most days, she had breakfast alone.

With the bacon in the pan and the waffle iron heating up, she was almost ready to have an amazing breakfast when she could have sworn she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Did Calvin forget something and he needed to come back? She poked her head around the corner and when she didn’t see anyone, she frowned and went back to her bacon. That was really odd but of course it could have just been the curtains moving. There was no reason to think it could have been anything different. With a shake of her head, she finished making her breakfast and took her seat at the dining table. She would admit that sometimes it was lonely being the only person in the house, but Nova had grown used to it. Growing up her parents were always at work since they didn’t have the best financial status. Her mother was working her way up in a company and her father ran a burger joint by the beach. They managed to make it each month but sometimes it was hard. When it was too cold or a bad surfing day, her father’s restaurant didn’t do very well so the winter months were the hardest. Nova learned that she wouldn’t get everything she wanted but she had everything she needed and she couldn’t thank her parents enough for that. They were always so supportive of her and even when it was hard to make ends meet, they made sure their little girl had everything she needed. She played with the bacon on her plate as she remembered all those lonely after school days when her parents weren’t home when she thought she heard something. She stopped playing with her food and strained her ears to listen to what she thought she heard. “I miss bacon.” She whipped her head around to look behind her since it seemed like the voice was so close to her ear. However, no one was behind her. Of course, no one was there. She’s alone in the house so there shouldn’t be anyone else talking but she heard it. Someone or something said that they missed bacon. She must be going crazy, that had to be it. She rubbed her face and sighed, wondering if all of her ghost fears from earlier in the week had come back to haunt her. Ha, haunt. Nova giggled at her own wording and stood but she heard more talking.

“Oh, you think that’s funny?” She stopped dead in her tracks and held her breath. What the fuck is happening? “Yeah that’s right, be scared of me.” Slowly, she turned around to face the direction of the voice but there was no one there. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow move and, in her fear, the plate slipped from her hands and crashed to the floor. This is insane and it can’t be happening. Ghosts aren’t real so the voice she’s hearing must be her imagination. She carefully began picking up the larger pieces of the plate and her leftover food and as she walked to throw them away, she heard the voice whisper, “cute butt.” That was not her imagination. She could hear it and she knew she wasn’t imagining it anymore. She ran over to her computer, the broken plate forgotten. Quickly, she began searching the records for her house to see if there could be any explanation for this. After a few minutes of searching, she came upon an old newspaper article from 1955.

On March 23 at 11:30pm, a shooting took place on Sunset Road. The fight broke out at around 10 o’clock between two neighboring gangs. What started as a simple fist fight soon grew ugly as one member of the South Side gang pulled a switchblade, threatening the North Side members. The South Side boy was quick to take a slice out of one of the north kids. After that, all hell broke loose. Other boys drew weapons and began to attack one another. The north was not looking too great until their leader, well know James Curtis, pulled a gun and shot the south’s leader, Ashton Irwin. The south took off running and two south members carried Irwin into the house located on 152 Sunset. Irwin’s shot to the chest was fatal and within 15 minutes, he died. Police encourage citizens not to be worried as now with the South Side leader gone, there will be no more gang wars.

Nova stared at her computer screen. So someone died here and now she’s seeing things and hearing voices and all this other crap. Maybe ghosts are real. She slowly closed her laptop and turned to look at her empty, or at least it should be empty, living room. What the hell was she going to do now? The first thing that came to her mind was the Ouija board she saw at the book store. That sounded like a terrible idea but what else was she going to do? So with that, she grabbed her bag and began walking to the book store.

When Nova paid for the board, the old woman ringing her up gave her a dirty look and Nova had never felt so looked down upon. What does this lady know or care about? She could just be using it as décor. Nova also noticed she had gotten a lot of weird looks when she was walking home with it in her arms. This town was full of old ladies, all who probably remember the shooting from 55, who didn’t like anyone that was different. When she finally made it home, the first thing she did was take the board out of the box and set it on her floor. She was never scared of these things because she never believed in them but now that she could only assume ghosts were real, she had to believe in these too. “Swear if I die, I’m gonna kill someone,” Nova mumbled and placed her hands on the board. “Alright um… are there any spirits here?” She waited, expecting something to move her hands and the planchette but nothing happened. “Ok well, if there are any spirits here, I would like to speak with you.” Again, nothing happened. “I promise I just want to talk, I don’t want to hurt you.” Nova rolled her eyes. This was getting ridiculous. The man behind the counter at the bookstore warned her not to antagonize the spirits or threaten them at all but fuck this. “Alright you little bitch, listen up. I know you’re here and you have been fucking with me these past few days and I’m done. Either you talk to me like a fucking grown ass man, Ashton, or leave my fucking house!” She yelled into her living room, breaking the silence. Suddenly, the planchette her hands were on began to move and she was not moving it.

“F…U…C…K…Y…O…U.” Nova glared at the board and huffed.

“Fuck you too pal.” Nova honestly thought that something else would have happened to her for talking to the ghost like this, but she guessed not. This ghost was a little bitch. “Why are you even here? You’re dead so just move on.” Nova stared at her hands for a moment and she thought that maybe he wasn’t going to answer but sure enough, her hands began moving again. “I-C-A-N-T. You can't? Well, why not? What’s keeping you here Ashton?” Her hands once again moved but this time it seemed like Ashton the Ghost had a whole story to tell. “I hate to interrupt but this is a little long for spelling. Can I like, talk to you another way? Medium? You want me to get a medium?” When the planchette moved to ‘yes’, Nova sighed. “So I get a medium so I can talk to you and then you will tell me why you won’t leave me alone and how I can get you to leave?” When nothing moved and her hands still rested on the word ‘yes’ she took it as confirmation. “Fine. Bye bitch.” Once the planchette was resting on goodbye, Nova ran to her phone and began calling around. Apparently, there were more mediums in this small town than she ever thought possible. After a few hours of calling, she found a woman by the name Sapphire that was willing to come to her house in less than five minutes. Scrambling, Nova hid the Ouija board in her closet, not sure if Sapphire was a fan of them. Just as Nova left her room, there was a knock at the front door. Quickly, she made her way over and opened it to see Sapphire, who was not who she expected. Sapphire was an older woman who looked to be about 60 or more. She smiled at Nova and made her way inside.

“You said there is a spirit here? And you want to talk to him?” Nova nodded and before she could explain, Sapphire closed her eyes and hummed softly. “Oh, he’s here. He’s saying that he needs your help if you want him to leave you alone.”

“Well, what does he want?”

Sapphire quickly shushed Nova and continued humming. “He says you must kill the man that killed him.”

“What? Hell no! I’m not killing someone just because some dead guy wants me to.” Nova huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Stupid ass dead dude.”

“Or, he said you can find a way to bring him back so he can do it himself.” Sapphire opened her eyes and turned to face Nova. “I can’t help you with that though. You see, I can speak to the dead and I can even see them, but I am no witch that can bring them back. I can, however, do something else for you.” Before Nova could ask what this woman had planned, Sapphire grabbed Nova’s face in her hands and began to whisper. Nova had no clue what she was saying but she did know that it wasn’t in English. Moments later, Sapphire made her way to the door. “Good luck finding help Nova.” And with that, she left.

“What the fuck kind of name is Nova?” A deep, masculine voice said behind Nova, causing her to spin around. There, standing by the kitchen entry, was a man. He was dressed in a leather jacket and jeans with his hair slicked back.

“Who are you?” Nova yelled and threw a book at him, but it passed right through his body. The two stared at each other and in amazement, and horror, Nova carefully made her way closer to the man.

“You can see me? You can hear me?” He asked as he also began to move towards Nova.

“You must be Ashton Irwin, the ghost that’s ruining my life.”

“The one and only,” said Ashton with a smirk. “Nice to meet you.”

Tags

@lustingfor5sos @mycollectionofnuts @ohhmuke @softboycal @norawashere @who-do-you-love-5sos @astrosashton @katiaw2 @littlesinnersins @bbyboyycal @rosecoloredash and tagging other people (hope it's ok): @calumsendgame @aspiringwildfire @cal-pal-cuddles

#my shitty writing #ashton irwin #ashton 5sos #ashton irwin fanfiction #greaser!ashton #5 seconds of summer #5sos #5 seconds of summer fanfiction

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lukewarmwoda · 6 years ago

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𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲𝗿!𝗮𝘀𝗵𝘁𝗼𝗻

feel free to request moodboards

#5 seconds of summer #5sos #5sos au #ashton irwin au #ashton irwin #greaser!ashton #greaser!5sos #5sos moodboard #ashton irwin moodboard

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gloss-glass-ash · 7 years ago

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A Greaser’s Life

Request: yes

Summary: The trial of parenthood and greasers

Warnings: reference to substances, some angst

The police were called on a Wednesday after you returned from Ashton's family. Cops showing up and digging around wasn't uncommon and wasn't comforting. One of the neighbors called them, the officer insisted, about a domestic disturbance. They were judging checking on your welfare, concerned for the baby, blah blah blah.

You assured the officer you were safe, you were happy, and no, your husband wasn't home. Michael was impressed at how you handled it while he hid in the hallway. However, he knew that you'd wise up eventually and he'd be the first you'd ask. You did ask, as soon as the officer was gone you turned a sharply to face him (difficult and tiring when little Rosie was so close to being born).

"What happened while I was gone?" There was a hiss in your voice and several hormonal imbalances that sparked fear in Michael.

"I can't tell you. Snitches get stitches. Bro code. It's all very honorable." He backed away as you made your way toward him. Despite being the most adorable pregnant lady he had seen, he did not want to be the one to tell you.

"Michael I'm probably a week from giving birth, I'm miserable and exhausted. I've been visiting Anne and helping Lauren and Harry get ready for school. I've bailed you out, I've bought Cal cigarettes against my better judgement, and I saved Luke's life." The tears were bubbling in your eyes as you looked at him, "I'm part of you all now, so just tell me."

Michael couldn't watch you cry, he hated it. His arms were holding you, careful of his niece in your tummy. "It's nothing you need to worry about now, I promise." He gave your belly a soft pat, giggling at the kick he got in response. "Once little Rosie is here and you're healed, we'll tell you."

That didn't satisfy you, but you could live with it for now. Rosie was a higher priority. Ashton was working double shifts in order to have enough saved up for the family and to have time off to help you. He got home late on a Friday to find Calum's car gone and Michael at the door with a big smile on his face. "We got to go, Daddy."

Ashton felt like he could cry or perhaps puke, he wasn't really sure. His nerves were eased when he saw Luke in the waiting room looking as much a playful puppy as ever. "I tried staying but I don't want to see Mom's bits like that."

Michael snickered as he settled in with Luke, watching as Ashton ran to you. You were beautiful right now, despite the sweat rolling off your forehead and the unpleasant screams and curses you made. Calum was feeding you an ice chip when Ashton walked in. He was handsome as ever, with his curls flopping in his eyes. His work shirt was unbuttoned half way, his eyes were tired but so full of life. "I got here as soon as I could, baby girl."

You smiled with relief, easing back. "Haven't missed much."

Calum raised an eyebrow. "Missed much? You basically pissed yourself, I thought your were dying, and I learned what dilate means. That's a fucking lot."

Ashton and Calum both stayed in the room throughout your labor. The midwives and nurses were confused, unsure of you with these two and downright scared when they realized two more were in the waiting room. Regardless, Rosie was born looking every bit as much like her dad.

"Thank you." He whispered sitting on the bed beside you, smiling between you and the baby in your arms. "For loving me, for giving me her, I don't know what I would do without you. You're my greatest gifts."

Two days later, the three of you were sent home. The bungalow was covered with balloons, everything was cleaned, and there were enough casseroles in the fridge to feed you all for a very long time. Other greasers in the neighborhood fluttered in and out for several days offering best wishes and gifts (some material, others helpful).

Early parenthood was perfect with Ashton who kept Rosie in his tattooed arms unless you were feeding her. He couldn't get enough of his little one and it was clearly reciprocal. She cried all day when Ashton went to work a month after she was born. Nothing you could do would calm her down, which only made you cry.

Calum found you both crying in the nursery, his puppy eyes drooping. "Y/N? it's okay." He collected Rosie into his arms, "Why don't we take her to Anne's? It's okay to ask for help."

"It's fine Cal."

"No I don't mind, I have to go to the gas station anyway." Cal insisted.

"Oh, to buy more cigarettes? Yeah no chance in hell Rosie's getting in your car. Her little lungs can't handle that." You didn't know it then, but looking back you were headed toward the breaking point.

Cal held his tongue, ignoring the sting in his chest. He was trying to quit. He'd been doing better. You were just frustrated. "Why don't we just take another car?"

"Luke?" You suggested and decided.

"No,no,no." Calum followed you as you grabbed Rosie's car seat. "Not Luke's."

"Why not?" You held out your arms, taking Rosie so you could put her into her seat. "Cal."

He handed you the sniffling little girl, a fearful look crossing his face. "Y/N, I promised them I wouldn't tell. You'll leave us, I know you will and I won't do that."

"Tell me Cal." You hadn't noticed Michael sneaking into the room, standing by the door ready to prevent you from leaving.

"Money is tight, you know that, but well, Ashton caught Luke doing something for some extra cash for the baby."

"What did Luke do? Cal, tell me." You begging now, pleading.

"He was moving product, of a certain variety."

"There were drugs in my house? That's why the cops showed up!" Michael could feel the frantic behavior you were going through. "Does Luke still sell it? Never mind, of course he does its in his car. Does Ash know?”

The silence was enough of an answer for you to head toward the door, Michael standing there with a cool set lip. "Let me go Mike."

Michael shook his head. "I'm not letting you walk out on Ashton, you need to talk to him, be rational. Doesn't Rosie deserve a family?"

Rosie stopped fussing, her light eyes looking up at your for the first time all day. You took her out of her car seat and took her upstairs. Luke lingered by your bedroom door as you headed in. "Mom?" His eyes were watering as you passed by him silently. "Mom? Don't shut me out, I'm sorry, we're sorry, Ashton doesn't know he doesn't I swear, he loves you and Rosie and I just wanted to help."

"I don't know what to do Luke." Rosie wriggled in your arms, seeming to reach for Luke. He shook slightly, but clearly wanted to hold her. You handed her off to him despite your better judgement. "Why did the cops say there was a domestic issue?"

"Dad found out" Luke mumbled, "lost his shit. He didn't want me putting you in danger or the baby. Neighbors got nosy." He kissed Rosie's fingers softly. "I'm in a contract for another month to finish selling. I keep it in my car so she won't get in it."

You nodded while rubbing the ache in your forehead. "I need to lay down, Ashton will be home soon and I don't want him knowing this happened."

Luke's heart could explode. He settled in beside you, Rosie sleeping in her bassinet. Ashton would join you when he got home, kissing your lips ever so softly. "Move over Luke, let me love my woman."

Ashton settled in beside you, closest to Rosie's bassinet, and smiled. A greaser's life wasn't great, but with you it was perfect.

#Ashton Irwin imagines #luke Hemmings imagines #calum hood imagines #michael Clifford imagines #5sos imagines #5 seconds of summer imagines #5sos imagine #ashton Irwin imagine #ashton Irwin blurbs #greaser!ashton #greaser!luke #greaser!calum #greaser!michael

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backtotheshitshow · 4 years ago

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Greaser Ashton Irwin. That's it that's the post.

____________

#ashtonirwin #ashton #irwin #greaser!ashtonirwin #5sos #5secondsofsummer #afi

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 5 years ago

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We’re Outsiders

This is a re-upload, or a throwback (originally written back in 2018). I hope you guys enjoy it too! I’ve edited it a little bit as well, since it’s original posting on the ye old @calumh-excess.

Calum’s used to being the on the fringe and used to be the one that fucks it all up. Cookie’s always used to being on the outside. Happens most of the time and completely out of her control. Together, they remind each other it’s okay to be on the outside--all you need sometimes is a shot.

Greaser!AU. Black OC.

CW: Deals with racism (some mentions of racially charged words), mentions of violence.

Enjoy my masterlist!

Support me on Ko-fi!

_____________________________________

Calum’s used to the dark. Most nights it’s just him out too late, past the time the street lights turn on. He likes it, driving down streets in the blinking of the streetlights as he glides over asphalt. The roads lined with trees and houses. The roads are lined with life that moves all around him, but are not bothered by him. That brings him peace. He’s so often the outsider. He’s the one that everyone stares at, with soft whispers. He knows what they’re saying is never good. He’s built that reputation for himself, with his slicked back hair, cuffed jeans and leather jacket. He’s done it to himself, being other and further ostracizing himself.

It’s not the life he chose for himself. His parents kicked him out and he had nowhere else to go. So Ashton, a guy from the south side that Calum had grown comfortable with, offered his house. It kept him in the same school for his last year and off the streets, so he took it. His friend group expanded, but now he was getting himself in more trouble than usual. Originally not a Prep and not a Greaser, Calum had managed to keep under the radar for the first year of high school. But now that he was living with Ashton, a prominent Greaser and hanging with the likes of Michael and Luke. Calum made a new name for himself.

Calum’s parents weren’t a fan of his interest in boxing. Calum took to amateur boxing as a way to finally feel like someone. His stature made it easy for him to lie about his age in the beginning of it at barely fifteen and no one cared enough to double check. Calum knew he’d never really go anywhere ultimately. He knew he’d wind up somewhere local, knew he’d end up in overalls in the car shop, changing tires and oil. After coming home too many times, coming home bloody, his parents had had enough.

Now with the Greasers, it was becoming evident Calum wasn’t just some quiet guy in the corner. His interest was saving his ass. When people wanted to pin them into corners, get into their faces, he always had a backup plan in his pocket. Fighting wasn’t his first resort, not initially. He’d try to talk a situation down. It doesn’t last long for anyone trying to pick a fight. Just about any and every fight ended with Calum standing, sometimes wavering just a little over some poor boy’s sweater vest and plaid shirt, covered in blood droplets, his fists put up in front of his face.

“Maybe sometimes, I just ought to run away from a fight,” Calum huffs to himself as his bike putters to a halt in front of the diner. “And I ought to gas this up more often too.”

He knew before he got the school to tutor that he needed to grab some gas. But he definitely thought he’d make it to the station closer to the city line. Tutoring felt like a saving grace. After work Calum spent a few hours at the school helping kids. It reminded him that he wasn’t all bad. It made him realize there was still humanity to him.

The kids he tutored normally never cared about school. They were too busy trying to survive, not wanting to be the next Black body to wash up into a river or hanging like strange fruit from a tree. But they needed school, even though Calum empathized with them, he knew they needed the basics. They needed to write, do basic addition, needed to read just a little bit. So that’s how he worked with them. He’d level with them, You can’t take that girl out on a date if you don’t know how to count how much cash you have and how much it’s gonna cost you. And you definitely can’t be cool daddy-o, if you not reading well.

The thing about kids is that they always asked; they knew he was trying to survive too in a world that seemed like it was always trying to kill them. If he came back with a black eye, or a busted lip, they asked him if his addition got him out of that fight. Calum would try not to encourage this kind of behavior, but he had to admit, the joke would be funny. Calum would reply nearly the same way, “Yeah, I added one fist plus two fists and put his candy ass flat. I’ll try subtraction next time.”

Right now though, Calum’s gotta focus on getting gas. He passes this diner all the time. He’s just never stopped here. It’s a silent understanding that this is a Blacks only establishment. He’s given a few kids rides after tutoring here. The parking lot is always full of Black people hanging around the doors and in cars, laughing as they part from their full meals. Just a couple minutes past here by vehicle is his own town, mostly white, some Blacks sprinkled into the mix. City’s split into thirds. There’s the northern side, the southern quarter and the Western side. The Black part of town neighbors right on the edge of this town. He knows it’s done strategically. The edges have become blended over time. But it’s not by a lot. The divisions aren’t invisible.

Because of winter’s grip even though it’s only closing in on evening, the darkness keeps most people in their own homes. Booths are empty. A couple tables hold people sitting. The hostess looks up from wiping down counters, smiling. She looks vaguely familiar, he thinks, as she leans against the dry part of the counter. “What can I do ya for?”

“Gas. And maybe a shake too,” Calum counters.

Her grin widens. “I can help with the shake.”

Calum goes onto to explain, “Bike’s empty. I reckon I should pay more attention.”

He watches the way her full flips twist up, her coily hair pinned back and a dainty little white flower headband tied around the middle. She raps her fingers against the counter. “Charlie boy!” she hollers turning to the kitchen.

“He in the back gettin’ ready leave,” comes a booming voice.

“He got his gas can still in his car?” There’s a shout in return and she turns back around, voice returning to her normal sweet tone. “Give me just a second.”

Calum nods, sliding onto the barstool. She slips from the counters, running into the kitchen. He notes the lack of a skirt. Her pants are tight around her thighs and hitting her just below the knees. Wait a second, he knows those leopard print pants anywhere. Her father was the one that had a crossed burned in their front yard a couple years back. It was the only time they seemed to be targeted, but rocks were thrown their windows too.

Calum sat next to her in English in tenth grade. The last year they had together before her family moved. He heard rumors that her family owned this place. But he wasn’t sure how true those were. She was always nice to him in school. “It ain’t no white boy!” she huffs, the doors sway close behind her.

A dark skinned man, bald too, stares Calum down, lips pressed together. After a silent moment, the man speaks. His voice deep and gruff. “He da one fix Ma car. Why you ain’t tell me it was him?” It’s a playful scoff from the man as he bumps her with elbow. “I’ll be back.”

Calum recognizes him. The man scared the shit out of Calum when he walked into the car shop. He looked mean, but it was just the years wearing down his brow line. He has to put on a mean face because it keeps everyone from bothering him, as he explained to Calum. “Thank you,” Calum says, sliding down and fishing out his wallet from his jacket pocket.

“Oh, keep dat. Keep it,” the man waves his hand, turning away from him.

“At least something?” Cal asks. “For the trouble?” He holds out a five dollar bill.

“If you think it I can’t spare a couple bucks,” the man starts.

The girl cuts him off. “Charlie just go get the damn gas. Ain’t no one trying to say anything or start anything. Just go.”

Calum continues to hold out the bill even as the man disappears into the back. She slides behind the counter and Calum pushes the bill towards her. “Make sure he gets that.”

“You do realize he’s gonna raise hell. He’s too proud.”

“Please.” Calum continues to hold her gaze and all the time he’s trying to pull her name to the top of his brain. Was it Deborah? She had a nickname that she went by. Calum feels his tongue curling, but everything to the comes to the tip of it feels wrong.

With a sigh, she nods and slips the bill into the pocket of her apron. “I’ll make sure he gets it. Charlie not mean, just hardheaded. As I’m sure you know, Calum.”

He lets a small laugh escape him. “Yeah, yeah I do. Wait, you remember my name?”

She winks at him. “Course I do. I remember everyone’s name. Still want that shake?” Truth be told, she didn’t always remember everyone’s name. But she remembered his, couldn’t forget it really.

“Surprise me,” he grins.

She smiles with a shake of her head. She doesn’t go far, around the wall that separates the kitchen from the back of the counter seating. Her conversation with the cook is short. Calum leans into the counter.

When she turns back around, she notices his the silver chain around his neck as he plays with it. He looks like his mind is far away. She takes in his appearance, the golden skin, the bruises probably days old due to the coloration fading. He really hadn’t changed all that much since the last time she saw him. Maybe he got a little bit more handsome. Maybe it was a change in the cut of his jaw or the chub to his cheeks had slimmed just a hair. But it was still very much Calum in front of her.

“Been in trouble?” she asks, gently rubbing her fingers over the bruises along the back of his knuckles. Her eyes linger on the one on the top of his cheek. Her cousin had told her that he seemed to be on the straight for now, but his healing body says something different.

Calum tries to recover from the shiver running down his spine. His voice is shaky as he speaks. “I’ve been trouble.”

“Cats scared of you know, huh?” Calum hears the teasing lilt to her tone, trying to keep the subject light. He shrugs at her question in response. “I’m not. I seen you fight. You ain’t so big and bad.”

It was once. She wasn’t even sure what it was over, just happened to be turning the corner to the building to walk home and behind the school a group had gathered, Calum at the center. He was breathing heavy, fists clenched. It was he was the calm eye to the hurricane of people hollering and shouting at the fighting match happening.

“Miss stealing your English notes,” he offers. That’s not what he wants to be known for, that’s not what he wants to be remembered by as the guy that could fight. “And those tiny hearts as periods,” he chuckles. The first time he saw it, he wasn’t sure if it was a heart or not. But as he skimmed over her notes more, the clear it became that those oddly large periods were really hearts in disguise.

Totally a sore subject, so she won’t be prodding that bull anymore. “Everyone here hates ‘em.”

Calum shakes his head, a grin splitting his lips. “They were kinda cute. Hope you ain’t do it for all the cats needing your notes?”

“That’s just the way I write,” she laughs. “But for you, maybe for you they were a little bigger than most.”

“Don’t do that to me, doll,” Calum laughs. “Don’t go getting my hopes up.”

“I ain’t trying to do that. By no means.” They laugh, gazes falling from each other after a moment. He didn’t know this about her. The side that liked to dish out the jabs. They didn’t ever really interact a whole lot in class, or after school when he’d return her notes. But he likes this. He likes their back and forth.

“Did you know you used to tutor my cousin?” Calum tilts his head to the side, trying to go through the catalog of his kids. He’s trying to place her face with those that he knows. But he’s coming up short. She continues on though. “You remember Elijah? Always bettin’ somebody?”

As the grin overtakes his face, Calum laughs. “Yes, yeah, I remember that kid. Always squeezin’ me for fifty cent!”

She laughs, nodding. “That’s Elijah. He’s kept his grades up. Not all A’s. But he’s doing good. He never stopped talking about all the bets y’all made. He could bash ears about you.”

“He was a good kid. Tell ‘im I said hi, will ya?”

“I’ll tell him.”

“Cookie!” a voice bellows. That’s it! That’s the nickname. At the back of his brain, he kept trying to pull it to the surface. But just couldn’t for the life of him. She spins around, grabbing the plate and glass in the window. It’s a slice of pie as far as Calum can tell and a shake. She grabs some silverware and then slides the plate and glass in front of Calum.

“No need for you to be waitin’ and be starvin’.”

“Tell me, Cookie,” he grins as the nickname slides off his tongue, “care to split this slice with me? I remember what my momma taught me about eating dessert before dinner.”

She clicks her tongue against her teeth. “Hmm,” she considers, fingers tapping at her chin. “You can get away with the nickname. This time,” she adds on, watching Calum’s brows shooting up on his face. “You’re not the only one that can dish out a knuckle sandwich.”

Calum taps the heels of his boots together, the soft thuds echoing in the quiet air of the dinner. “I’m shakin’ in my boots.”

“You better be.”

They talk about their lives, Calum working at the shop and her finishing up school though it feels like for sure she’s spending too much time at the diner. She does it mostly to help out since her parents are short staffed at the moment. Tiny pieces are cut between laughs and shy glances up from between lashes. Without even realizing the last fork clinks against the empty plate as Charlie walks back into the diner, through the front doors. “That your bike out front?”

“Yes, sir,” Calum answer, sliding off the stool.

“C’mon, and I’ll fill her up.”

“Thank you again for helpin’ me.”

“You good people. Don’t sweat it.” He doesn’t wait around before stepping back into the dark of the now thickly settled in night.

“How much do I owe you?” He turns to Cookie and nods towards the half finished shake. She waves a hand before pulling out his five from earlier.

“Let’s just say it’s on the house.” Calum goes to speak and she shakes her head. “He won’t take the money. I’ll use it to cover the bill and give him extra on his tip,” she whispers. “Believe me, I’ve got things all worked out over here.”

It’s a fair enough system and Calum hurriedly slips into his jacket before his boots click against the floor. Charlie doesn’t seem like the kind of man to keep waiting. And Calum definitely doesn’t want to find out the hard way. But as his feet carry him closer and closer to the door, his gut keeps jumping. He doesn’t want to let this be the last time he sees Cookie.

And maybe it’s just the late night and the first time a girl looked at him that didn’t throw herself at him. Sure, Cookie flirted and he flirted back. But girls had two modes with him, they either ran away from him or they were just looking for a good time. Calum normally didn’t have anything against that. But that’s not what he wanted. He wanted someone he could laugh with, someone that saw behind the bruises.

With one hand still holding the door open, Calum turns just a bit. “Cookie,” he starts, turning around. He might be pushing it just a little with the nickname. But the way she smiles lets him know that maybe she likes it too. “Mind if I see you again?”

“My English notes are always available. You know where to find me.” It ends with a nod. The bright smile that makes Calum’s stomach knot up again.

“I’ll see ya ‘round, doll.”

__________________________________________

The dinner rush seems like it’s never going to end. The second she thinks she can keep up with her tables, someone’s asking for a refill on the drink, or needing extra condiments, or more napkins. But finally, she can see through the windows again. The parking lot doesn’t look like a party of it’s own. Cookie exhales, plopping down into the barstool. If her hair weren’t already pinned back, it would’ve fallen into her face. It’s only Friday. Tomorrow will be much worse. However, right now, she can take a deep breathe. She can take a moment for herself. Cookie presses her forehead into the cool counter.

The door chimes again. God, not someone else. Not another patron. However, no matter how much she wants to disappear into the ethos, she swallows the complaints back down and pops up off the stool. “Booth or table?” she asks, automatically reaching for some menus.

“Tellin’ me the counter’s not free?” Calum grins.

She places a menu down, gesturing with a sweeping motion to the spot she once sat. “All for you.”

Calum shrugs out of his coat, draping it over the seat next to him. He chews on his bottom lip. She’s grinning up at him and he knows it’s not the same grin everyone gets. Her eyes twinkle too though he can tell she’s tired. “Full of gas today?”

It’s been a week since he had to drop in after running out. He didn’t expect her to drop it. She probably would never drop it either. “All the to the tip top,” he exhales with a tuft of laughter. She’s leaning into the end of the counter, the little part that starts to turn into the two doors that tell customers to keep out.

“Charlie Boy says thanks for the tip.” A table across from her flags her down and they lock gazes for a second. The exchange of acknowledgement nods. “I’ll be right back to get your drink.”

Calum nods, watching her rush away. It’s a skirt today but the blue matches the decor inside and he concludes it’s the uniform. Why she wasn’t wearing on that fated Wednesday he’s not sure. But he liked that. Like that she didn’t always try to fit in.

Calum looks over the menu and everything looks to die for. But he’s not really ordering anything, didn’t even intend to. He only came by to see her. Money was getting tighter thanks to repairs needed for the house, but it’s nothing that he and Ashton can’t scrap the money together for. Though, Calum was sure Ashton was going to flip a lid if he had to pulled more money for his car funds.

Cookie darts around the counter, grabbing the coffee pot and smiles when she notices Calum watching her. “Didn’t forget. Promise I’m coming back.”

“No rush. You workin’.”

When she finally gets settled again, Calum leans his elbows onto the table and rests his chin on the flat of his knuckles. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Besides working my ass off here?”

“Cookie what I tell you about all that swearin’!” The voice is distinct but he can’t place who it belongs too. The whole diner is still pretty packed and with all the waitress in the same uniform, it’s almost like a blur happening around him.

She rolls her eyes, reaches into the pocket of her apron and drops a nickel into the tip jar. “I swore yesterday and never put my two pennies in. I’m just covering myself for the next one,” she explains with a small laugh.

“Besides workin’, what are your plans?”

She shrugs. “Don’t get off until 9. I should probably get some homework done.”

“Would you be interested in catchin’ a movie?”

“Askin’ for passion pit?” At first Calum thinks she’s serious. He didn’t think his reputation was going down like that. He was a gentleman. A fighter of course, but always a gentleman. He goes to defend himself and how he’d treat her like a lady until he sees the grin on her face.

“Oh, just keep yankin’ my leg, huh? So you dig?”

She nods. “My only question, where?”

“I’m not sure of places around here, besides I have a bike. Not really drive in material. But there’s one not too far just across the west line.”

He can feel the hesitation on her. He prays she doesn’t say no. He figured that one would be close enough to her old neighborhood, it won’t put her too far into dangerous spot. The North side of town is no place for her. Nor is any spot for him to be casually. He knows that. He’s not blind to the looks Black people get in groceries stores or walking down streets. He’s not blind to the news or the lack of news surrounding disappearances.

“How far across the line?”

“Minute. Two max. Close to your old neighborhood.”

She bites onto her lip, looking up to the ceiling. “I haven’t been on that side in a while. I know those people are cool with you. South siders are thick as thieves. I’m just, nervous. But I’ll go. If it gets too bad, we gotta go. No one’s gonna burn a cross, but, I just, I’m worried.”

Calum nods. “Of course. If ya want, we could go to the one over here.”

“You’ll get nasty looks too.”

“Don’t mean you gotta sacrifice yourself.”

Her laughter is sad and heavy as it falls from her throat. She opens her mouth to say something. She wants to joke that sometimes her entire existence feels like a sacrifice, that somehow her mere existence felt inherently politicized and a form of rebellion. She doesn’t let it cross her lips though. Instead, she swallows it back down and shakes her head. “Now, what’s cookin’ good lookin’? What can I do ya for?”

Calum reaches out for her hand. The touch is light, makes her insides tingle too, if she’s honest. “You already did it. See you tomorrow, Cookie.”

“I apologize if my father’s a bummer tomorrow. Keeps a tight ship. I’ll still be able to go. But that ain’t to say you won’t have to fight for it.”

Calum nods before taking his hands back and sliding into the jacket. He’ll keep that in mind. “I’ll break out my loafers,” he grins. “Get ‘em spit shined too.”

Her laughter follows Calum out the door and through his entire ride back to the house. When Calum walks in, Ashton immediately note the grin on his friend’s lip. “What you got up to?”

Calum shakes his head, pulling his jacket off. “Nothing.”

“Nothing surely looks like a hell of a lot like something. You cheesin’ too damn hard. That girl?”

“She’s nice.”

“Just be careful.” Ashton doesn’t miss the questioning glance of his friend. He holds his hands up. “Look, don’t shoot. I’m just saying, this town ain’t too fond of people like her. She moved for a reason.”

“You fond of people like her? They folks just like us.”

“I’m not saying that, and you know it.” Ashton retorts, his gaze firm and mouth twisted down into a scowl. Ashton knows he’s not like the rest of the town. But he doesn’t want to see his friend washed up and bloated from the river. “But you gotta be careful with her. The world’s inherently against her. And you could get caught in the middle.”

Calum understands the sentiment, but sees no issues. He’s not naive to think the world’s just gonna open their arms. But people aren’t that bad. He doesn’t believe that, even if it felt like he was constantly fighting. He had to believe that there are good people out there. If not, the rest of his life would be hard and full of more scraps. “I can handle if I get caught in the middle.”

“But do you want to handle getting caught in the middle?”

“C’mon, man, do you hear yourself? I like her. She’s nice. She don’t look at my bruises and think she has to run away from me.”

“That’s awesome. You know I’m rootin’ for y’all. But you are in just as much danger as she is. And you already got plenty of people who don’t like you. It’s all they need. They’d only need a reason.”

Calum knows Ashton is right. He knows that anyone that didn’t already like him would really like him now. However, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve a chance. That doesn’t mean Calum can just run away.

“I like her.” It’s final as it falls from his lips.

He brushes shoulders with Ashton as he heads to his room. It’s not meant to be mean, Ashton just can’t bare the thought of something happening. The world can’t be all bad. But it can and very much did get pretty bad. An hour or two later, as Calum just starts to feel the grip of sleep, there’s a knock on his door. He snaps awake and walks to the door.

Ashton’s holding out a cookie, from the pack they bought last week from groceries. “It’s the last one. I didn’t want to take it without asking.”

Calum wipes at his face one last time, leaning into the molding of the door. His stomach growls and he realizes he hasn’t eaten anything yet. He takes hold of the chocolate chip cookie and chuckles. “Her nickname is Cookie, ya know?” He says taking a bite of the treat.

“Well, Daddy-O, you’ll be callin’ her baby real soon.”

Calum throws a weak, half-hearted punch to Ashton’s gut. “Fuck off,” he laughs.

Ashton curls up, blocking most of the blow. He laughs too. The tension from earlier disappears. Calum understands Ashton’s concerns, but he can handle himself. One date isn’t going to end the world. He knows it won’t make the world a less spiteful place, but he can’t let that predict every move he makes. He hasn’t let it yet and he can’t start now.

__________________________________

The diner’s parking lot is shockingly full when Calum walks his bike to a stop. He kicks down stand and straddles the bike before getting his leg around. He’s mindful not put the collar of his leather jacket back down. He didn’t put too much gel in his hair either. Good impressions. That’s what he’s gotta make right now. Though, one look at him immediately gives away his affiliation, but he tries to tone it back down. Calum even threw on one of his scarcely worn button up shirts. When he walks inside, he notices Cookie untying her apron. There’s a man, a little taller, with a neat short cropped cut, and a face just like hers, though he’s a tad lighter in complexion.

She smiles at Calum and he returns the gesture, exhaling as he walks over. He’s not used to having to meet the parents up front. But this isn’t his house, these aren’t his rules. He’ll still play the game though. Calum extends his hand. “How are you, sir?”

Her father shakes his hand, grip firm and eyes sharp. “I’m good, son. How are you?”

“I’m well.”

The quick once up and down is almost too fast to catch, but Calum knows the tactic well. “I don’t judge, son. I don’t. The world’s full of it already. Just treat her right, tonight.”

“Of course, sir. Is there any time I should have her back by?”

“As long as no one’s coming through my door at ungodly hours, I’m not too concerned.”

Cookie sighs, head falling on her neck as the sigh shrinks her shoulder. “He means midnight at the latest. I’ll save ya the time of walking through that maze of a riddle.”

With that, she leads him out of the diner. Calum can feel the eyes on him. Some whistle as they leave. Nothing menacing, all good teasing love. He laughs as Cookie groans in their departure.

Calum doesn’t miss the way his own body is warming though, the jitters almost making his teeth chatter. Her touch is so sure, but gentle against his hand. Cookie pauses at his bike and releases his hand, running her fingers gently over the handlebars.

“So, a couple friends of mine wanna tag along, is that okay? I can shake ‘em if not,” Calum warns.

She nods. “That’s fine.” There’s a moment where she’s gazing up at the skies and Calum’s watching her. “Honestly, I’m just glad to get away from the dinner even if it’s only for a couple hours. I graduate in June but I know where I’m going to wind up. I just need a way not to get stuck.”

Calum pulls out the helmet. “Well, let me unstick you.”

She huffs. “My hair is not going to fit into this.”

“You better make it fit, baby. Because I’m not leaving until it’s on your head.”

She cocks one of her hips out, the black blouse tied at her waist, paired with black pants too. Her red Keds tied perfectly around her feet. “Fine. But someone better have a mirror for me to fix this afterwards.”

“I’ve gotcha, doll.”

She wants to curse the way her heart flutters at the nickname ‘doll’ because there’s no good reason for her to almost melt at the way it curls off Calum’s tongue. But she does. Especially with the tiny shy smile he always pairs it with. It gets her every time and if she could curse him so it didn’t, she would.

He slides onto the bike first and she slips on behind him, arms wrapping around his waist. Her hold is strong, even a little tense when he first takes off. But a few seconds later, after being on the road, she loosens her grip. The wind is great across her face. She’s only been a bike once before. She’s not necessarily the angel most people think her out to be and she enjoys the secondary persona. It gives her a break from her reality, that she will always be bashed because of her skin color. She will always be at a disadvantage, it feels. But it doesn’t means she can’t have her fun along the way.

As the stop at a light, she watches with blurred vision as the red light burns into her retina. Soon it turns orange, and she’s staring out of her bedroom window watching white clothed bodies lighting fire to a cross. All she can think about is how she covers her younger sister’s and brother’s eyes, tries to keep them preoccupied. But they still asked her why them. What did they do wrong? And the answer unfortunate truth is nothing but exists. She doesn’t tell them that, she instead tells them that some people are just mean and don’t understand the harm in their beliefs. She doesn’t have the heart to shatter their worlds. She doesn’t have the heart to use words like racist, and evil. They’re too young still. But they know for sure. They know about it, they just don’t have the words.

“Hey,” Calum says, gently, hands wrapping around hers around his waist.

She blinks and realizes they’re parked. “Sorry, just thinking.” Her arms slip from around him and she pulls the helmet off gently. The bright bulbs on the front of the building let her know it’s the theater. The spaces are a little empty, but there are some cars. Most people have probably opted for the drive in since the weather is starting to finally break. She pushes off the seat. He watches her, quickly wiping at her face. Why the tears now? The worst time possible.

“Hey, whoa, what’s wrong?”

“Nothin’. I’m okay.”

“It don’t look like nothin’.”

“I-I’m okay.”

“We can skip the flick,” he offers, gingerly reaching out and resting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s no big deal.”

“Your friends would surely be disappointed.”

“They won’t be.”

“I just. I wish I could shake them. I can’t get that image out of my head sometimes. All of those men in my front yard. My sister and brother being scared. It’s not easy.”

He’s at a lost for words. He doesn’t know what’s that like and he probably will never. It’s not to say that he hasn’t gotten his fair share, nor Ashton. Ashton caught a lot of heat taking Cal in, but when everyone you know can keep up in a fight, people tend not to say much. But her family was prominent, and typically non-violent. “I know there’s probably not a lot I can say or do right now,” Calum starts, gently taking her chin between his fingers and tiling her head back. “But whatever you need, let me help.”

He swims in her vision for a moment and Cookie wishes she could just get over it. She wishes she could just take a sponge and wash it from memory. But it’s right there, right behind her eyelids some nights. Shutting her eyes for a moment, she lets the few tears falls, but she nods gently. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” he breathes, “of course.” Calum pulls her in for just a moment, letting her compose herself. Cookie wishes she hadn’t, the smell of him now and the hint of nicotine is pressing into the hairs of her nose. She never wants to breathe out.

It takes a moment longer before she nods into his chest and they head inside. Ashton said he’d cover the tickets, if Calum covered a bit more on the groceries. So it works out. Inside, fingers threaded through each others, Calum spots, Ashton, Luke and Michael, leaning against the wall. A circle of Preps are eyeing them but their attention is immediately shifted when she and Calum walk in. Calum holds a little tighter to her hand. He prays they don’t start anything.

As they walks closer to his friends, Calum notices more people are watching them. Not just Preps, but everyone in the room. “Thought we scared you and your Daddy out of this town!” someone shouts.

Her grip tightens in response, but she doesn’t drop her gaze from the three boys in front of her, Calum’s friends. This is what she’s used to, at any march, at any speaking event. This is normal for her. It doesn’t hurt any less. It doesn’t stop making her heart jolt at every insult, but she can hide the flinches, she can hold back her tongue. For a moment.

“You know you don’t belong here!”

She’s waiting for one of them to use the word. She just need the lips to curl into the start of n sound and she can pounce. She’d rather not start a scene here, on the wrong side of town. But god, does she only need one reason, she only needs one of them to set her off. “Either cut the gas, or you’re gonna have a problem,” Calum warns, a single ring adorned digit signaling out the offender.

“Oh, she can’t talk, huh?” Joseph is always one to try and start any fire he can. It was like he almost got off on the humiliation.

“Drop dead,” Cookie hisses. “No one wants anything to do with you. Won’t no one thinking about you for two seconds, so now you gotta make yourself known.”

“Fream speaks!”

God, she wanted not to give in. She wanted to walk away. “I do. But you got a lot to say. So keep running your mouth, half way to a bruisin’ as it is.”

Calum looks back to her. He didn’t expect that from her, but something hits his chest. It’s a strange excitement and the adrenaline before a fight. Part of it definitely disbelief. Not Cookie, he hasn’t pegged her as the type. But maybe he had been more wrong about her than he thought. Maybe all the teasing and flirty wasn’t just her playing games. While Calum would rather not have a fight, he sure as hell wouldn’t leave her to a fight alone. “The lady spoke,” he grins, turning back to Joseph. “Shut it or we dance.”

Joseph, who once was surrounded by his posse, notices that only on a couple of his original boys still stand. No one really wants to get into a fight with Calum. And everyone can see the other three circling in close too. The odds are heavily on their favor and Joseph would definitely be the laugh of the town. “You’re not worth it anyway,” Joseph finally mutters. Though Calum can see the way he’s holding something in the back of his mouth.

Calum pushes her back behind him, just in time too before the spit lands on the floor at her feet. His hands are in fists before he realizes and he surges forward. Grabbing the collar of Joseph’s shirt, Calum lifts him from the ground. He can’t even get the word out before Joseph releases an ‘Oof’ doubling from a blow. Calum looks to his left to see her fist at her side. “Try me again,” she hisses. “Put him down and let him try me again. Just because my dad’s nonviolent, don’t mean I am all the time.”

Calum drops the boy from his grasp. “Where the hell did that come from?”

Ashton, Luke, and Michael who have been keeping to the back, watching, waiting for anyone to step in, finally move in towards them. Luke takes hold of Calum’s bicep. “Let’s go. We can’t afford any heat right now.” Luke’s taking in Cookie and the crowd. It can go south real fast for them.

Calum nods and reaches out, running his fingers from the top of her vein along her wrist to her fingers. Cookie’s hand unfolds and he intertwines their fingers. She takes a step back and while Joseph is still recovering, she spits on his shoes. “Need better aim next time!”

The five of them shuffle out of the theater, quickly, knowing any attendant that happened to see the heated argument could be dialing for the cops. Outside, Calum pushes her closer to Michael. Most people don’t suspect him. He’s good in a fight, but not overtly identifiable. “Ride with Michael.” Folks definitely saw Calum and Cookie walk in together. She can’t be on his bike, not with him. If he gets caught and pushed around by the cops, it’s fine. But if she’s caught with him, that’s bad news.

“Sorry for ruining our date,” she calls out to him.

Calum slips on the helmet, grinning. “You didn’t ruin it, Cookie. You made it a hell of a night. Michael, goose it. Got it? Burn fucking rubber.”

Michael nods with a grin. “You know how to pick ‘em, Cal.”

Cookie slides into the passenger seat of Michael’s car. And true to Calum’s instruction, Michael blares down the backroads. He laughs about halfway through the journey. “Got a solid jab,” he offers.

“Thanks. Dad taught me.”

“Cal boxes. You know that?”

“Heard something like it.”

“Yeah,” he hiccups as they bounce a deep hole in the road. “Maybe he knew deep down you could fight too.”

Soon they pull into the driveway of a decently upkeep house. The outside doesn’t have a lot done to it and she knows that the inside might be a little sparse too. But everyone does what they need to in order to survive. One car is already there. But not too soon after they climb out of the car, she can hear the rumble of Calum’s bike. She pauses near the front steps, one hand on the railing and watches him. The tires kick up dust and rocks as he swerves into the driveway. He continues on around the house, slowly creeping by. Soon the deep rumble ceases and instead she can hear the crunch of feet against the gravel and dirt.

Calum pulls the helmet up as he rounds the house. “No heat, as far as I could tell.” Everyone exhales. He walks up to her, grin on his cheeks, curls perfectly disheveled from the quick tug up from his helmet. “Jets and a mean jab, got it all don’t you?”

“I shouldn’t have. I just hate his guts. I’m sorry.”

With a shake of his head, Calum takes her hand. “You’re fine. He deserved it anyway.” Her hand trembles in his. “C’mon,” he urges, taking her into the house.

The decor isn’t as sparse as she thought it would be, the couch has a couple blankets draped over the back of it with end pillows. The cherry wood dining room table has four chairs that match and a small bowl in the center some fruit sits in it. There’s a big shelf with records on it, some books.

The walls a little bare minus some old photos. “It’s not a lot. But we get by,” Calum whispers.

She shakes her head. “Reminds me of the old house. Even the new one we have isn’t too packed. Half the time, money’s going to the diner. The other half, the time’s going there too. Just never seems worth trying to unearth everything.”

Calum soothes the skin of her hand with his hand. He never considered that, that her life on the outside looked one way. But on the inside it’s way different. It makes sense why she has so many hours at the diner. “What can I do ya for?” he grins.

She laughs. “That’s my line. You can’t go stealing that.”

“Too bad, doll. Looks like I just did. So what can I do ya for?”

“Honestly, at this point a smoke would be nice. But water will do.”

Almost way too sheepishly, Calum reached into his jacket pocket and dangles the pack between his fingers. “I try not to smoke often. It’s not a habit I’m proud of, but if you want one,” he trails off with a shrug.

It’s tempting. It’s very tempting. Her statement was mostly a joke. But she keeps eying it. So, Calum places the helmet on the couch and hands her the packet. He slips out of his jacket, finding the lighter. She knows she shouldn’t give in. She hasn’t had one in a few weeks. Mostly because her dad would kill her. “I’ll go get us some drinks. Then we can step outside.”

“So we’ve met,” Michael starts, cutting through the awkward silence as Calum shuffles into the kitchen. “I’m Michael.” He points to the blonde to his right. “That’s Luke. Watch out for his limbs.” He then motions to a brunette. “That’s Ashton. Calum and him live together here. I live a few houses down and Luke lives like a street over.”

She smiles at them, still playing at the carton top. “Sorry about missing the movie again.”

“You were way more entertainin’,” Luke laughs. “Besides, we hadn’t gotten tickets just yet, so win-win.”

Ashton’s stare freezes her. It’s somewhere teetering on the edge of the disappointment. “Scold me,” she starts. “You won’t be any worse than my father.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or concerned,” Ashton answers truthfully. He’s impressed because he’s only never heard about her, seen her through others eyes. They all call her quiet, reserved, put together. He’s never really laid his own eyes on her. But now, she didn’t really go off the deep end until provoked. He can give her that. She didn’t throw the first punch. Though she made damn sure that she threw the last one though.

Ashton’s concerned because what does this mean for the rest of them. They already have enough of a target on their back. He doesn’t want to make her out to be a villain, but his world’s not easy on her and it won’t be easy on them if they associate with her. “This isn’t against you, it’s just, we’re already so…”

“Alienated. Greasers are low down, dirty, get into fights all the time. You guys are the scary people everyone should run from. And I’m the shit stain on this here great country. We’re both outsiders. I’m just further out of the circle than you. I get it.”

“But you’re sweet, got a little rattle snake in you, but you’re good people,” Ashton counters.He doesn’t want to discredit her by any means.

“I’m never going to have the best of both worlds. So you best decide now what world you want.”

Ashton watches Calum from the kitchen doorway, a beer in one hand and a coke in the other. “You ever think we could actually fit in Ash? Because if so, you’re a dip stick, the biggest one I’ve ever seen. If you thought just because I wasn’t Black, that you’d somehow could still skate into the white agenda, you were wrong. You can’t choose me and then accept her,” Calum counters. “Won’t ever work.:

“We’re outsiders, we live on the outskirts of town. We weren’t eva’ gonna fit in,” Michael says.

“But do we always have to be behind?” Ashton questions.

She places the pack down on the coffee table. “We will always be behind. And until you accept that, you’re never going to make it forward.”

It makes sense. They were always going to be pushed to the outskirts. They could never make it in. The door wouldn’t open for them. Ashton’s known this, but it was easier to be on the outside and still be white. He could still see the door, could still knock on it. She can’t even get a glance at it. “The world’s never gonna be fair to you,” Ashton sighs. “But the least I can do is be fair to you.”

“I hope it will be one day. Today’s just not the day.”

Ashton stands from the kitchen table, “Care for a beer? Coke? Water?”

“Coke’s fine, thanks.”

“You heard the lady, get her a coke,” he grins as Calum. He can be fair to her. The inside wasn’t meant for them anyhow. What would he gain? Status that all relied on following prescribed rules that meant nothing? That was his whole thing. Following who’s rules? Why follow them? What be the reason for it for him to break one and face backlash? It’s pointless that’s what it is.

“Bring that,” Calum urges, nodding to the pack. She grabs it and follows behind Calum to the back of the house. He points out bathrooms and bedroom. She pokes her head into Calum’s. Lots of posters cover the walls of various musicians.

“If I ain’t know better I’d say you might be into music.”

“Just a little,” Calum laughs.

“Too busy boxing now, huh?” She lands a few fake punches to his torso and Calum bows every so slightly at them. Their laughter is soft.

“I’m trying to keep it clean, legal.”

They settle onto the top step of the back porch and Calum sets the Coke near her feet. She hands him the pack. He taps it twice to his palm before pulling out a cigarette.

“Most people run when they know I fight, but not you.”

“Ain’t most people. And you ain’t the only one that can fight.”

He shakes his head, lips wrapped around the butt of the nicotine filled paper. Cookie’s got him there. She watches him flick the lighter and the way the flames lick at the paper. She watches the cut of his jaw, the way his hair falls in different directions around head now. “Shouldn’t grease it back so much,” she mutters, hand reaching up to play in it. She stops herself, asking him silently.

He nods. “Go ahead.” The cloud billows from his nose and mouth as he speaks. She drags her nails over his scalp, letting her fingers graze the soft strands. He holds the cigarette out to her. He grins when she hesitates. “I’m willing to share one. But if you’re afraid of cooties, I understand. I did get the shot though.”

She laughs, slapping his arm and takes the paper between her fingers before inhaling the nicotine. “Earlier,” she starts, passing the burning paper back to Calum, “that red light made me think of the cross in my front yard. I’ve got a brother and sister. Both younger than me. I’m terrified for them. They’re going to have same shitty world that I had. We march, we protest and we die. For what?”

“So the world’s not so shitty for them,” Calum exhales.”Maybe, hopefully.”

“Easier said than done.”

“No one said life was easy. Because if so, they’re a goddamn liar.” Calum holds out the cigarette for her, but she shakes her head, going for the bottle at her feet. “I’m sorry about Ashton. He means well. Just a worrier. Thought I had talked sense into him earlier.”

“I’m not upset.” It’s silent, the crickets sounding from the bushes. Calum thinks about all the hate she sees on a daily. How does she do it? He figures it’s not without trouble. They’re all burdened. No one in life gets through it untouched. Everyone has scars.

Calum’s comforted by the silence between them and before he’s realizing he’s talking. The words are just coming out of his mouth. “My parents kicked me out. I wasn’t always here. I mean, I was always other. I was always a fighter though I never liked it. I was always different. But I wasn’t always labeled different, outside.”

“You get by though.”

Calum nods, letting her take the last hit of the cigarette. “Car shop is good cash. How I got my bike. Tutor helps a little. Nearly dropped out, but Ash footed a lot of the expenses. I had to repeat a year, which ain’t the prettiest thing to admit. It took me a while to find a place to stay, wasn’t going to school all too often.”

“I bet that makes the kids feel better. The ones you tutor.” She figured Calum was older, figured that they had meet in English class by some repeat or calculation but she wasn’t sure.

“It does. They know it’s okay if things take them a bit longer.”

“Thanks. For coming to our side. For helping out. It helps more than you might now.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.” There’s another pause. He watches the smoke float from her lips. “Can I see you again? Maybe actually have an actual date?”

“Telling me sharing a cigarette on your back porch isn’t a date?”

“Exactly,” Calum laughs. He hasn’t even touched his beer. He doesn’t really want it. He brought it just in case she didn’t want the fizzy drink. He’s not too upset about it. One of the other boys will take it no doubt.

They sit outside, way after all the nicotine is inhaled. She rests her head onto Calum’s shoulder. “I vote next date is food. Because every time I see you you not eating!”

“I eat I swear to it!”

“Picnic, my place. You’ll have to excuse the anklebiters if they’re around.”

“Next time, your place. I’ll excuse the anklebiters. If they’re around.”

The ride back to her house isn’t long. Feels much shorter this time around. The redlight doesn’t shock her system. The wind on her face is welcomed as it blows back Calum’s scent too. He pulls into the driveway and walks her up to the door.

“Thanks for tonight. Even though it didn’t turn out like we planned.”

Calum shrugs. He enjoys the way it turned out. “Clearly it well enough for me to get a second date.”

“Calum, if I didn’t know better I would say you’re trying to get jacketed.”

He laughs. “I know I want to see you again.” It’s direct and skirts around the going steady tease. Truth be told, he’s not sure about that. But he doesn’t want to completely ruin his chances with her.

The door creaks open a little. “Good night, Calum.”

“Good night, Cookie.” She steps into the house, sending him a small wave. He waves back and waits for the door to close. He had plenty of time, he thinks at his own place to kiss her. Or make some sort of move. But maybe it was better that they just talked, that they spilt guts to each other that they hadn’t let others see just yet.

Calum starts down the porch when the front door creaks open again. He’s not sure what’s wrong but before he can turn around fully to ask, lips are pressed gently to his cheek.

“You missed,” Calum teases. Cookie, still bent over, pushes into his cheek and Calum turns to face her completely. Her lips are soft against his and holy hell--it’s happening. Their shared breath is the slight sweet of her Coke and the bitterness of nicotine.

“Ain’t miss that time,” Cookie teases. Her lips brush against her as she speaks and they linger for what feels like an eternity, lips just centimeters from each other and breathing in the other’s exhales.

“Wasn’t a footballer, but you’re gunning for that jacket,” Calum whispers.

“I think I look good in leather,” she hums, brushing her nose over his.

“Bet you look gorgeous in it.” It leaves him in an exhale. Her chuckle is soft before she straightening back up. She slips into the dark of the house, waving one last time to Calum.

His boots nearly trip him as he heads down to his bike. Calum can still feel teh ghost of her lips on his. Her nails are still pressing into the flesh of his cheek to keep his head straight. Not like with a kiss like that he wouldn’t have followed her anyway she wanted him to go.

He’s gonna get in deep with her; he can feel it. And he doesn’t even care.

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blackbutterfliescal · 5 years ago

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Thanks to @castaway-cashton, I can't stop thinking about poly!lashton as greasers 👀💭

#im just messing around with this mb but like...im Obsessed with rockabilly stuff anyway and theres been so much greaser!ash floating around #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #lashton #mine

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lvke-hemmings · 6 years ago

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Greaser!Ash

#ashton irwin #mood board #5sos #greaser aesthetic #these pictures killed me off #greaser au #5 seconds of summer #aesthetic #5sos au #calum hood #luke hemmings #michael clifford #5sos imagine

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cakesunflower · 6 years ago

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Not Immune [Greaser!Calum AU] Part 2

Disclaimer: I’m well aware my dumbass said that there would only be two parts to this imagine/one shot/whatever you wanna call it, but this is already nearly 6k words and I kept going until I realized how long it was getting so I decided to cut it up. So now it’s gonna be THREE parts instead of two. Hope y’all enjoy!

All Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 [Finale]

The lazy whir of the fan’s blades were calming to Y/N, her eyes following the movements while her fingers lightly played with the curls on the head of the boy currently sound asleep next to her. Or, more accurately, almost on top of her as Calum’s cheek rested Y/N’s chest, the stubble of his chin tickling her as the softest snores escaped him. She had on one of Calum’s V-necks, the size of the shirt making for a big neckline for Y/N, the area under her collarbones completely exposed, which is where Calum’s cheek was currently resting.

These moments were one of her favorites. She loved waking up before Calum if they spent the night together, because almost always they would end up tangled in one way or another, and more often than not Calum rendered blankets useless for Y/N because he was just so warm and comforting. In the months they’ve been together—nearly six, to be exact—Calum’s embrace had easily become Y/N’s favorite place to be. The Greaser who intimidated both who lived on the north or south side had become her favorite person in just a few months, and Y/N had become the only person who got to see a side of Calum that was just hers to enjoy.

The side of Calum that had the most handsome smile ever, one that brought crinkles to his eyes as he grinned widely. She saw the side of Calum that had saved money from his job at the auto shop to buy himself a guitar, who played for her on the back porch of his house and even sang a little sometimes, never failing to steal her breath for the duration of the songs he played. The side of Calum that had taken off one of his rings, the one he knew was her favorite, and put it in a chain to give to Y/N as a gift on Christmas (a gift she wore every day under the collars of her blouses). The side of Calum that she gifted a brand new leather jacket to on his birthday when his old one had gotten ripped and destroyed beyond repair during a brawl with some Preps. The side of Calum that, despite being known only for an intimidating Greaser always ready for a fight, turned soft and gentle and utterly loving in front of her.

Y/N’s gotten to know more of him—his mind, his heart, his body—in the months they’ve been together and they have easily become the best months of her life.

She smiled in sleepy contentment, having just woken up, as she let her eyes flutter shut, hoping sleep would come once again. But then something crashed on the other side of Calum’s closed bedroom door, followed by glass shattering and Luke’s unmistakable voice yelling, “Those are my fucking pancakes, asswipe!”

Her eyes shot open as his yells were responded with even more shouting, the sleep shocked out of her as she took a deep breath to calm the quickened pace of her heart brought on by the unexpectant yelling. This wasn’t the first time she was scared awake by Calum’s friends’ shouting, but Y/N doubted she’d ever get used to it.

“Gonna kill ‘em,” Calum tiredly, raspily mumbled, lips brushing against Y/N’s skin as he spoke.

Y/N chuckled softly, the racket outside not dying down, so she decided to get up for the day because God knows she’ll be able to fall back asleep now. “Come on, sun’s up.”

Calum groaned, burying his face in her chest as his arms slid around her waist, making Y/N laugh lightly as he turned so they were both laying on their sides, with Calum’s head tucked under chin, curls tickling Y/N’s skin. “Doesn’t mean we have to get up,” he grumbled, left leg pushing in between hers and pinning down her right one to keep her in place.

As much as Y/N would love to stay in bed with Calum, she knew she couldn’t. She had told her parents she was sleeping over at Diana’s house and that’d be back by one this afternoon, and the small analog clock on Calum’s bedside said it was 11:47. “Yes, it does, Cal,” she hummed, hand sliding from his hair down his smooth back. “Let’s have breakfast.”

It took another few minutes of encouraging, but soon Calum and Y/N were getting up. While he remained in just a pair of pajama pants despite the cold weather, Y/N changed into her clothes from the day before of pants and a sweater, picking up Calum’s brush to tame her hair before putting on her headband to push it back from her face. The commotion outside had died down by the time they stepped out, and Calum made his way towards the kitchen while Y/N stopped to use the bathroom which, Y/N seemed to notice around the second month of her coming around, always seemed to be a bit cleaner than usual when she came by. It made her smile.

As she washed her hands and face, Y/N pressed her smiling lips together at the sight of her neck, seeing a few purple marks scattered here and there, knowing that Calum’s golden skin looked similar to hers. At least she had a scarf to cover it up when she left.

When she walked into the kitchen that also served as a makeshift dining room that opened into the living room, Y/N was unsurprised at the ruckus going on. Four boys who lived together were bound to cause as much noise as they could, and if she wasn’t being frightened out of her sleep, Y/N kind of enjoyed it. Her house was never this lively, full of so much chatter and laughter and the occasional boisterous yelling, and she quickly found familiarity here.

“Mornin’, Preppie,” Ashton, the oldest high school graduate of the bunch, greeted Y/N as she walked in and he leaned against the entryway between the kitchen and living room, sipping tea from a mug. Preppie was the nickname he coined for Y/N just a short while after Calum started bringing her around, ultimately shocking his buddies that his new girl was a north side Prep. At first Y/N didn’t care for the nickname, but six months later and it was a call to the friendship they established. “Want breakfast?”

Not too hungry, Y/N helped herself to a cup of tea as well as Calum hopped up on the counter next to the stove, where Luke was begrudgingly making more pancakes since Michael was wolfing down the ones already made. Calum slouched where he sat, feet only an inch or so from the floor, rubbing the top of his head and messing up his sleep induced curls even more as his tired eyes remained on his girlfriend.

He watched her, saw how comfortable she was sitting on the lone, random chair Michael had brought in a year ago because someone had put it on the sidewalk to throw it out so he took it and fixed it and now it was one of the random chairs in their house. Every time he saw Y/N lounge around his house, Calum always felt a bit shocked that she was so comfortable here, that she felt and looked so at home.

He remembered the first time he brought her over, about a month and a half in since when they had started sneaking around and he had told the boys he started seeing someone. Safe to say they were in for a dizzying shock when they found out it was some Prep girl. And when Calum brought her over, he hadn’t realized how nervous he had suddenly become when she stepped through the front door. Calum could give a fuck about what people thought of him; no one on the south side had an issue with his house. It was one story, though big enough for the four boys which gave them their own rooms. But it was nowhere near as nice as even the shabbiest house from the north side, and he’d been to Y/N’s house a couple of times already when her parents weren’t around. He knew what kind of background she came from, knew she had money, and suddenly, for the first time, Calum had become insecure of his own pad.

Seems like he had been freaking himself out over nothing, because Y/N didn’t at all seemed perturbed. The hard edged, Greaser side of him had been ready to kick her out if she had so much as made a face at the sight of his place, but Y/N did no such thing. She smiled when she took in the mismatched furniture, one piece rarely matching another, and teased that she didn’t know four boys living together could keep a place so clean. And Calum saw no hidden disdain in her eyes and decided that this chick was definitely more than just a Prep.

As if feeling his gaze on her, Y/N glanced over at him from where she sat on the other side of the small kitchen, quirking a curious eyebrow when she saw him looking at her. Calum merely smirked lazily over the chatter of his buddies, and Y/N smiled, shooting him a quick wink before returning to her conversation with Ashton. Calum felt his throat dry; yeah. . . Definitely more than just a Prep.

Too bad it was bullshit that even though neither of them saw the barrier of Greaser and Prep between the two of them, the rest of the town still did. Which meant for the past six months Calum had been reduced to only being able to touch and be with her in the privacy of their homes or late night escapades at Venture Creek. Not for the first time in the past few months, tough guy, punch-loving Calum wished the rivalry between Greasers and Preps was non-existent.

*****

Something was wrong.

Y/N didn’t know what, but she could feel it inside, feel the sensation of her heart sinking in her chest and chills running down her back and her worry increased with every minute that went by. She found herself glancing around the theater, nothing seeming out of the ordinary, but she just couldn’t shake the feeling. Glancing at Diana, Y/N saw that her friend was completely engrossed in the film, which was coming to an end soon, so Y/N’s knee began bouncing out of nerves, wanting to bail from the cinema. She didn’t even pay attention to the end, too bent trying to figure out what the hell was wrong.

She was probably freaked out over nothing and needed to get a grip, but the tightness in her chest was silently telling Y/N that something bad was happening. So when the movie ended, she was out of her seat and was practically bugging out of there as quickly as she could, Diana stumbling behind her to keep up with her.

“Why’re you bailin’ so quick, Y/N?” Diana asked as they got to the lobby of the cinema. “Everything okay?”

Y/N frowned, chewing her lower lip as she paused for a moment and mumbled, “I don’t know.” But then she heard it. The noise; the yelling that attracted the attention of almost everyone in the cinema, and it wasn’t hard to tell that it was coming from outside. Her frown deepened and Y/N began making her way towards the doors like some other few were doing, Diana right behind her as they stepped outside in the cool March air.

Everything was louder now as they kept walking towards the parking lot where a group was gathered; sweater vests and leather jackets alike and realization dawned on Y/N that of course there was a fight going on. She felt her previously tense shoulders relax a bit, figuring that this is what had gotten her so uptight before, and she was about to turn to Diana to tell her to let’s go, uninterested in some fight, when she heard a familiar voice within the crowd yell.

That familiar voice, happening to belong to her ex-boyfriend Joey, which happened to be yelling, “That’s the best you got, Hood?”

Y/N’s heart fell.

Before the thought even fully processed in her mind, her feet were moving her towards the boisterous crowd which was throwing shouts every which way towards the two boys in the middle. Y/N could feel Diana behind her, the two young women sticking close amongst the group that was mostly made up of boys, yet they managed to shove their way towards the front.

When they did, Y/N didn’t think her heart could sink any lower than it had, and her right hand instinctively grasped Diana’s left, eyes unable to look at anything other than the scene unfolding in front of her. The scene that consisted of her ex and current—albeit secret—boyfriend exchanging blows, with Joey receiving more than he was throwing.

He was already sporting a bloody nose and an eye that was swelling up after a hit, but Y/N’s own eyes went directly towards Calum. She inhaled an unsteady breath at the sight of him, taking notice of his messed up hair and lack of leather jacket and the red drops and streaks on the front of his white shirt, which also had spots of dirt coloring it. He wasn’t too far from her, allowing Y/N to see the split lip he was sporting and his own bloody—although not as much as Joey’s—nose, along with a yellowing, purplish bruise forming on his cheek.

But what really had her grip on Diana’s hand tightening was the sneer on his lips, an expression of aggravated distaste with his eyes set in the fiercest scowl she’s ever seen him wear. Diana shot her best friend a worried look, but Y/N paid her no mind, too frozen at the fight going on in front of them. Other than Calum’s three friends, Diana was the only person who knew about Y/N and Calum’s relationship. The girl had been downright astounded and in disbelief when Y/N told her she had been seeing Calum for nearly three months, and it wasn’t until Diana actually hung out at Y/N’s house with her and the Greaser that she realized her best friend was truly smitten with the south sider.

It was lucky that while Diana had grown up with north sider beliefs, she wasn’t one to judge people harshly, which is why she and Y/N were best friends in the first place. Sure, it had taken her a while to accept and warm up to the Greaser, especially because of the harsh reputation that followed him, but when she saw him with her best friend, Diana knew that there was more to Calum than she thought. So she kept the relationship a secret, even helped Y/N out when she wanted to spend the night with Calum and covered for her when it came to her parents. Who was she to stand in the way of her best friend’s happiness?

And in this moment, all Diana wanted to do was pull Y/N out of here so she didn’t have to witness the ugly sight in front of them.

“I’m not the one with the broken nose, Ken Doll,” Calum countered, a taunting edge in his voice as he wiped under his own nose with the back of his hand, indifferent to the blood that was smeared on his skin. But Y/N cringed at it; it hurt to see him bleed. Then there was a smirk—not the kind that flipped Y/N’s heart, but the kind that sent a chilling shiver down her spine as he sneered, “Let’s see ya crawl out of here when I’m done with you.”

When he lunged, the shouts from the crowd gathered intensified, and Y/N felt her stomach twist and heart hammer at the sight of Calum landing a ring clad punch to Joey’s jaw. A gasp choked in her throat, watching stunned on the spot, as Joey slammed back into a parked car. And suddenly it was like Joey didn’t have a chance because Calum was on him, left hand fisting the front of Joey’s bloody button down and right fist repeatedly slamming down on his face, the sound of skin harshly colliding with skin making Y/N watch along in horror, frozen in utter shock.

Across the crowd, Luke’s eyes somehow landed on Y/N when he happened to look away from his best friend teaching that Prep fucker a lesson, and Luke felt his heart stop. He saw the look on her face—saw the fright and surprise and numbness—and he cursed, “Oh, fuck.”

He grabbed Ashton’s arm, the older guy looking at his taller buddy before the blue eyed blonde nodded towards where Y/N stood. And when Ashton saw what Luke did, he too was cursing under his breath before the two broke out into a run towards the fight.

Y/N watched two figures break out of the crowd on the other side, instantly recognizing Luke and Ashton, watching in silent apprehension as the two of them reached Calum and Joey, effectively pulling his friend off of the beaten Prep. The raucatious crowd died down as Ashton pulled Calum off of Joey and Luke came to stand between them, and through her anxiety over everything Y/N wondered why the boys came to put a stop to everything.

And then, so subtly, she saw Ashton nod in her direction after animatedly talking to Calum, and to her—what? Apprehension? Anxiousness? Relief?—Calum looked over his shoulder, dark eyes searching everyone’s faces until they landed on her.

She saw the instant change of his expression; saw the dangerous, downright furious glare transform into one of surprise before changing into one of what seemed like regret. Y/N was no longer paying attention to the other people around her, her eyes focused on Calum, her eyebrows drawn together in distress and unease, deaf to everything except her heart pounding in her ears.

Breaking her gaze from Calum, she glanced at Joey who was now being helped up by some of his friends, unable to get up on his own feet, face bloodied. Y/N flinched at the sight of him, a grimace flashing across her face and lips pressing together in mild concern over her ex. Then her eyes landed on Calum’s hands, no longer curled in fists but knuckles and rings tainted with blood that wasn’t his own.

Y/N’s heart was in her throat, along with a tense feeling she couldn’t determine was fear or trepidation, as her gaze lifted to meet Calum. The crowd had began dispersing as her eyes met Calum’s and she recognizing the pleading look he wore, her own gaze softening at the sight of his cut lip and bruised cheek and slightly bloodied nose. But one image of Joey’s bloodied face flashing through her mind had her cringing once more.

She saw Calum take a step towards her, and Y/N took a breath as she subtly shook her head because there were too many Greasers and Preps around, and the two of them hadn’t told anyone. She saw the frown twitch on Calum’s face, and Y/N wanted to talk to him, to run up to him, but there were too many people around. They hadn’t talked about going public, figured that it wasn’t a good idea, and it was that very exhausting ideology that had Y/N preventing herself from hugging Calum. God knows if a Prep girl was gonna run up to hug a Greaser, all the other north side boys would wreak havoc, and that’s the last thing they needed right now. As much as it pained her, Y/N would have to talk to Calum some other time.

She broke her gaze from Calum’s worried, anxious ones, knowing painfully there wasn’t much she could do in this moment. Her eyes met Diana’s, who was also still reeling from what they had just witnessed. “Let’s go,” Y/N muttered, inhaling deeply once she uttered those words. Diana didn’t need to be told twice.

Y/N could feel Calum’s gaze burning a hole in her back as she walked away.

*****

I fucked up. I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up. Those three words were repeating in Calum’s head like a mantra, a chant to remind him of his mistake tonight. As if he could forget. As if he could ever erase the rattled look of astonishment, disbelief, and devastated unease on the face of the one girl he’s ever really cared about. And the way she looked at him after she truly witnessed what he was capable of—that hurt more than any injury he could get in a brawl.

Y/N wasn’t oblivious to Calum’s actions; she knew he fought—hell, she knew that about him long before she even met him. But once the two of them started hanging out, Calum made sure she was nowhere around if he ever got into it with some Preps. Not that she would be there in the first place, since the two of them never saw each other in public, but the last thing Calum wanted was for her to witness the scene that unfolds when it’s him and his buddies against a bunch of Preps.

But tonight she saw and bailed before Calum could even say anything. He couldn’t explain to her that he didn’t fight Joey for no reason—he lost his temper because he had heard Joey talking smack about Y/N and Calum couldn’t just sit idly by and let that dick talk about his girl like that, even though no one knew of their relationship. The first crude comment about her that escaped Joey’s lips had Calum launching at the fucker. He used his rivalry with Joey to his advantage, so no one thought anything of it when the fight ensued.

Still—Calum wanted to explain his side to Y/N, but she hadn’t wanted to listen. Whether it was because they were around people and couldn’t be seen together or because she couldn’t be around him in that moment, Calum didn’t know. But he couldn’t crash for the night until he talked to her.

The cold wind whipping against his face was almost a relief as he rode his motorcycle down the emptying streets, everyone already home from their day at work or school, hair slicked back save for a single strand, nearly curled, fluttering against his forehead. The dull roar of his motorcycle was all he could hear as he pulled into Y/N’s neighborhood, dark save for one or two lights in a couple of houses flickered on along with the street lamps dropping pools of light every few feet.

Calum parked his bike in the usual spot under a tree around a few shrubs around the corner, before shoving his hands in the pocket of his jacket, not even flinching at the clench of his raw knuckles, and quickly making his way to Y/N’s house. Her parents were home, but probably asleep, so Calum made his way around to the back, eyes on the sturdy draining pipe that ran up the house right near Y/N’s window on the second floor. He let out a breath. He fucking hoped she left her window unlocked.

Inside the house, Y/N was downstairs in the kitchen, getting herself some water before going to bed. Her parents had long since gone to bed, always turning in early, so she silently made her way back up to her room, bare feet on the wood paneled floors sending shivers up her spine as she approached her bedroom door, on the other end of the hallway from her parents’ room.

She entered the room, shutting the door behind her and when she turned around to walk further in, Y/N froze at the sight of the figure sitting on her bed directly opposite of it her. Only her bedside lamp was on, practically glowing around Calum’s seated figure as she looked at him, the shadows by the lack of light hiding the injuries she knew to be on his face.

Seeing Calum in her room wasn’t a surprise; he often snuck in through her unlocked window, using the draining pipe to climb up. Honestly, Y/N had expected him to show up after what happened tonight, and she was glad he was here, especially with how she had just left after everything went down. She hoped Calum get the wrong message, though she wouldn’t be surprised if he had.

“How’re you feeling?” she asked, hoping to keep her tone neutral although the concern slipping in couldn’t be helped.

Calum watched her as she took a few steps further into the room, though small and almost hesitant. Was she afraid of him? The harsh twisting in his chest was unexpected yet robbed him of his breath; Calum didn’t want Y/N to be afraid of him. Not ever. The mere idea of her fearing him had bile burning the back of his throat. “Nothing I can’t handle,” he rasped, sitting up and squaring his shoulders. “What about you?”

Y/N raised her eyebrows, walking over to her vanity to set down her glass before facing Calum. He had an unreadable expression on his face, eyes blank and lips pursed, making Y/N wonder what he could possibly be thinking. “Me?” she frowned with a light shake of her head. “I’m alright?” It came out as a question, only because she wasn’t sure why Calum was asking her. It’s not like she’s the one that had blood on her face earlier.

“You looked pretty tee’d off. Rattled,” Calum supplied, lifting his chin slightly, almost in defiance. As if he was trying to appear indifferent to her reaction of seeing Calum like that, when in reality he was anything but. When Y/N parted her lips but didn’t say anything, Calum stood up, easily towering over her, though she didn’t shrink back. That was a good sign, maybe. “You know what I get into, Y/N. You know I don’t care about wailing on some asswipe—especially when it comes to my girl.”

Y/N blinked at his words, giving a startled shake of her head as she asked, “I’m sorry, what? What do I have to do with this?”

Calum scoffed, a dry smile on his face as her rubbing his hand down his face, not even flinching as he rubbed against his bruised cheek and cut lip. Y/N stared at him expectantly, wondering what the hell Calum was talking about as he walked towards the window he had climbed in from, now shut as he stared out into the dark of the night.

“Your ex-Ken Doll was talking about you,” Calum finally spoke up, his back to Y/N, but she heard the edge in his voice, which was wavering as he tried to keep it steady through the anger that was creeping in. Y/N’s frown deepened, lips tugging downwards as she noticed the tension in his shoulders. “’M not even gonna repeat what he said but it didn’t sit well with me. Had to teach him some manners, even if he didn’t know what lesson he was learnin’.” His jaw ached from how hard he was clenching it, thinking of that damned Prep’s derogatory words about his girl being the easiest bitch he’s ever laid. Just thinking about it got Calum’s blood boiling.

Y/N stared at Calum’s back, eyes wide and jaw slightly hung as his words sank in. She knew getting into brawls was in Calum’s nature, knew that the animosity between Greasers and Preps hadn’t eased up just because she was secretly friendly with them. She also was aware of how things weren’t good between her and Joey since they had broken up, her ex always sneering at her in the hallway at school and making comments left and right—though, she never told Calum because she didn’t care. Joey could say whatever he wanted, it was only fueling her dislike for him. And why should she care, anyways? She had Calum, and he’s all she needed.

She may have flinched at the sight of Joey’s beat up face, but she could give a damn about him anymore.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” Y/N spoke up, a gentleness in her voice that matched the soft smile on her face. The thought of Calum defending her like that, although violent, had her heart racing. They’ve been together for six months, yet he still managed to keep her on her toes.

Calum turned to look at her, a disbelieving frown on his face. “I wasn’t gonna let some piece of shit Prep get away with talking about you like that,” he said, nothing but solid determination in his slightly accented voice. Y/N didn’t say anything, feeling a rush of warmth at his words at the knowledge of Calum being so fiercely protective of her even if she wasn’t there to hear Joey’s unkind words. Calum scoffed with a shake of his head, looking back out the window as he continued with a mutter, “Even if it means havin’ you bein’ afraid of me.”

That had Y/N blinking in disbelief, staring at his broad shoulders since Calum was still showing his back, not looking back at her, as if he was expecting a look on her face that would just prove his point. But all Y/N could do was look incredulous, taken aback at his words. Afraid of him?

“Cal. . .” she began, her hand reaching out to grab his arm, the leather jacket cool under her touch as she tugged him. “Look at me.” When Calum reluctantly turned, expression steeled as if he was bracing himself for Y/N’s confirmation, she felt her heart sink. His jaw was clenched, muscle jumping that gave away the tension he felt that was hidden in his blank expression. “Calum, I’m not—I’m not afraid of you.”

He let out a disbelieving huff with a roll of his eyes. “Don’t bullshit me, Y/N. Saw the look on your face—you couldn’t’ve booked out of there faster if you tried.”

Through the hard mask he wore, Y/N saw the hurt crack through it and she swallowed inaudibly, her shoulders sinking at the thought of being the reason for it. Calum had the reputation for being the toughest, baddest Greaser out there—it was the side of him that he made sure everyone saw. It was the only side of him everyone else saw.

But Y/N was lucky. She got to see past the tough exterior; she saw how big his heart was, how caring and loving and gentle he was. The side of him that was reserved just for her, and while that side of him was one she adored, Y/N’s feelings for Calum wouldn’t be as strong as they were if she didn’t accept him for who he was all over. He was a Greaser—he was her Greaser.

“I was surprised, Calum, not afraid,” she told him, her other hand coming to grab his, her touch gentle as she glanced down at his hand, her fingers ghosting over his bruised knuckles. Calum turned his hand then, carefully grabbing hers and Y/N smiled smally, looking up at him. He had been looking at their joined hands before his gaze met hers, the tension leaving his features somewhat yet still cautioned. She should’ve known her fleeing actions could’ve been misconstrued, could’ve caused Calum to think that she was running away from him when in reality she wanted whatever conversation they needed to have to be done in private. They couldn’t do that in front of everyone.

“I saw you,” Calum argued, eyebrows drawing together slightly. “You were scared, Y/N. I know fear when I see it.”

“Maybe so, but I wasn’t scared of you,” Y/N easily countered, watching as Calum pressed his lips together, his lower one a bit red due to the diagonal cut in the middle. “I just—I was scared of the whole thing. No girl wants to see her boyfriend in a fight, no matter how well he can hold his own. It was. . . A lot, and I was also worried about you, but I wasn’t afraid of you, Calum. I could never be scared of you. Scared for you, yeah, but never of you. I need you to believe that.”

She kept her gaze on him, watched as he dropped his own down to their joined hands, a furrow in his brows as he considered her words, unable to stop herself from holding her breath as she waited. After their first night together at the creek, when they decided that they wanted to see more of each other, be together, it had surprised Y/N how easily Calum opened up to her. There had definitely been times when his tough, not-to-be-messed with exterior shined through when they were together, but more often than not, when he was with Y/N, Calum melted. She had an effect on him he hadn’t seen coming.

“I do.” Calum’s voice was gruff as he let go of Y/N’s hand before his finger looped into the ring that she wore around her neck, dangling from the chain. No one ever really questioned Y/N on it, assuming it was a new piece of jewelry, and every time Calum saw it around her neck he felt a swell of pride in his chest, adoration for the girl in front of him. He kept his finger looped in, bent at the middle joint, as he met her eyes. Then, hesitantly, looking afraid for the first time Y/N’s met him, Calum asked quietly, “You know I’d never hurt you, right, sweetheart?”

Y/N’s eyebrows smoothed out from their frown, staring at him almost incredulously, taking in the expression he wore. Genuine worry was swimming in brown eyes she adored, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat nervously as Y/N’s lips parted, letting out a breath. The fact that he felt the need to ask her that broke Y/N’s heart, making her want to do nothing more than erase any and every doubt that may be clouding Calum’s mind.

“Of course I do,” she answered with every bit of conviction she had, her hand that had been resting on his arm sliding up to cup his jaw, brushing her thumb along his unbruised cheek as she added with a reassuring smile, “You don’t ever have to worry about me thinking otherwise.”

One look at her—at the breathtaking smile and glimmering eyes and unadulterated acceptance—and Calum didn’t need to press on the matter anymore. He felt the weight of the night lifting off his shoulders, easing his chest, and finally being able to breathe. He used his finger in the ring to pull Y/N closer, slanting his lips over hers in a kiss that he hoped translated his gratitude, his feelings.

How lucky was he to be in love with the most beautiful person, inside and out?

Now it was only a matter of telling her.

tags: @gotta-try-something-new @crownedbyluke @lipstickstainfading @angelbbycal @cals-babylons @irwinkitten @spookyashton @luke-0-lantern @vaporlewk @perfectlycake @tothemoonmikey @kaloncal @calumh-excess @bitchinbabylon @calistajs @grreatgooglymoogly @calumthoodsyonce @biggestslutforcalum @cosmixcalum @babygirlcashton @thebodaciouscth @irrevocablylukes @calistheloml @ghostofhood @gigglyirwin @checkeredcalum @wrappedaroundcal @complete-trash-101 @thesamebutwonderfullydifferent @booklove-2 @calumfornicationx @sensationalmikey

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