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littledrummeraussie · 7 months

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tell me all the things that you couldn't before.

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warnings: brief mentions of sex. a nightmare. hurt/comfort. lots of loving for Ashton. badboy!mechanic!Ashton AU.

word count: 5435

author’s note: This fic was written back in January, 2020, as part of the infamous A Permanent Chase fic, which I'm not sure will ever see the light of day as it only lives in my head and my heart.

The original concept is the following (to help you understand the fic better):

Ashton (in the beginning appearing as Fletcher) comes back to Sydney, where he starts working at Calum's garage as a mechanic. Shortly after this he meets our girl and starts to pursue her. They do start dating, but after some complications happen, and she finds out Fletcher is not the person he tells people he is, but someone else (Ashton), and she quickly breaks things up between them.

What she doesn't realize is that she and Ashton have met before, just after graduation at a beach party, where they fell in love for a night, but never saw each other again. Ashton does recognize the girl, but she doesn't recognize him for a long time, until finally Ashton does tell her the truth about their past.

The story is a mess - the original idea included gangs and street racing in which Ashton also partakes, lots of chasing after the girl in different places and scenarios, who eventually starts to put together how Ashton really loves her and actually wants to protect her from things happening around the city. (This is a huge reason why I never really worked on the story - I couldn't decide on anything, so it's just a big mess.)

They eventually make up and finally kiss at another beach party (full circle), and decide that they want to start a relationship with each other. There are lot of added stories to them in my mind, all of them following the main story above.

I also realized over the years that in some ways they are kinda toxic, but I cannot help it, I love my babies so much. So if you have any additional questions, please feel free to ask them.

Feedback and reblogs are appreciated!

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It was well past midnight when you realized that there was something out of the ordinary. At first everything seemed to be normal, your night started like any other: you stopped by the garage after work, parking your car just outside the building and greeted the boys who were still working there. You’ve convinced Ashton to finish early, making Calum close up for the night, and dragged your boyfriend up the stairs to his flat.

He was in a really good mood, and with a cheeky grin he pulled you into the shower with himself. His hands were searching and grabbing at whatever body parts they could reach, and after he’d promised you the best fuck of your life, Ashton picked you up to cross the tiny apartment to his bedroom, where he made good on his promise. You were lying in a tangled mass afterwards, watching the last rays of sunshine peeking through the window, painting Sydney in the most beautiful shades of pink, orange and yellow.

You were ready to make some dinner, but Ashton preferred cuddle time, and held you close to his side while he ordered Thai food from one of his favourite places. You spent the time kissing and talking about your day until the guy arrived with your order, and you ate in comfortable silence in the kitchen, playing footsie all through dinner. Usually this was the time when you went out to have fun around town, or just lay on the couch, watching the TV mindlessly, but the last few weeks have been different.

Since you’ve decided to take up some courses to help you with your work, it meant that eventually you needed to take exams on them as well. You had your doubts when you first approached Ash with the idea, but he was supportive, and in his own way, he helped you with your studying and papers. It usually meant buying you coffee or letting you rant about your problems – or ordering food when he thought you could use the extra time. And his apartment was much quieter than your noisy neighbourhood. He did not mind you staying over if it meant cuddles, food sharing and sex – all three of those happened regularly, so he did not complain.

You have already started revising notes when Ashton came up to you and gave a kiss on your neck. You leaned back against his chest, looking up at him with a smile.

“You’re going to bed?”

“Yeah, I promised Calum that I will open in the morning, since someone decided to drag me away early,” he leaned forward to press another kiss on your forehead, his red locks falling over your face. “And I don’t want to keep you away from your notes and books, which are clearly more interesting than your own boyfriend.”

“How tragic,” you laughed, turning around on the kitchen chair to wrap your arms around him. “Please file a complaint, and I will talk to the management.”

“And what will I get as a consolation prize?” he quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Blowjobs.”

“Oh, plural? That doesn’t sound so bad,” Ashton grinned at you, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. “When can I start collecting them?”

“You know how offices work – it might take a few weeks to get an answer,” you bit your lip to hide a smile, and Ash just huffed at you.

“If it was up to you, I wouldn’t get my blowjobs for the next 30 days or so,” his fingers found a way into your tied up hair, slowly pulling out strands and combing them back into an even messier bun. “Any way to file a complaint about filing complaints?”

“I might know someone who can help you,” you tilted your head forward, pressing a small kiss on the skin of his stomach, then quickly blew a raspberry on it. “But only during opening hours.”

“You are terrible,” he laughed, grabbing your face and pulling you closer to plant a kiss on your lips. “Alright, I’ll leave you to your notes.”

“Don’t hog the blankets,” you poked his side, and Ash laughed again, pushing your hand away. “Good night, Cardinal.”

“Is that a joke on my hair?”

“You tell me,” you winked at him, and he leaned back to give you another kiss.

“Good night, you monster.”

* * *

You knew something was up when you heard noises from the bedroom. The flat was really small, with no actual doors between the bedroom, the living area and the kitchen, and at first you thought the all-nighters you pulled would bother Ashton and he wouldn’t be able to sleep with the light on in the kitchen. But he was a heavy sleeper, still and calm, and the only thing that ever broke the silence was his light snoring. But not tonight.

The first thing you heard were the rustling sheets, a pillow thumping down onto the floor, the bed creaking under his weight. There was a loud gasp, more rustling, something hitting the nightstand or the bed frame, then another loud thump on the mattress. More gasps, more heavy breathing – you could hear the panic in the way he was trying to catch his breath, choking on air, like he couldn’t get enough oxygen into his lungs.

You pushed yourself out of the chair, running to the small bedroom to check on Ashton. He was tangled up in the sheets, body twisting around as he tried to kick off the covers, thrashing in his blanket prison. His arms were swinging, trying to grab onto something (or someone), hitting the pillows and the bed with every move. He pushed his head back into the pillow, turning it left and right as he was panting, his Adam’s apple moving almost in a frantic, panicked way.

He was no stranger to nightmares – when he was exhausted or just had a bad day, he would go to bed early, resting his head on your stomach, hugging your body close to him like a pillow, and that usually did the trick. He slept soundly and without interruption. But sometimes he was just so lost in his own head that he forgot about it all, not caring about the dreams sneaking into his sleepy mind, and he usually woke with a start in the middle of the night. He would curl his body around yours, telling you that he’s okay, he just had a bad dream, he will fall back to sleep soon – he only ever asked you to hold his hand during these moments.

But tonight was different, Ashton never had a nightmare like this, one that physically shook him. He was fighting so hard to wake up, but nothing seemed to work. You dropped onto the mattress, climbing closer, and grabbed him by his shoulders, shaking him with all the strength that you had.

“Ashton! Ashton, wake up! Ash! Wake up!”

Suddenly he bolted up, eyes wide open, staring at the wall and taking in a lungful of air, making himself dizzy in the process. You shifted closer, climbing between his legs, and wrapped your arms around his trembling body. You held him close, running your fingers over his back, murmuring soft words into his ear as he buried his face in your neck, taking deep breaths, trying to calm his hammering heart.

“I’m here, Ash, it’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

He locked his arms around your waist, pulling you closer, never loosening his grip on you. You ran your hand up to his shoulder, lightly massaging his tense muscles, caressing his neck, brushing your fingers over his hair. His skin was cold and sweaty, his hair wet and sticking to his forehead. His breathing was slowing, and you moved your head to press a small kiss on his temple. He tensed for a second, but then melted into your arms once again.

“It’s alright,” you whispered, still stroking the red locks at the back of his head. “It’s over. It was just a dream, it’s over. I’m here. You’re awake. It’s okay.”

His breath was hot on your neck as he inhaled deeply, nuzzling his face back into your skin. His muscles were slowly relaxing, but he was still tense and sweaty, and a shiver ran through his body. He tried to burrow closer to get more of your warmth, and you let him stay in your arms like this for a few more minutes. When you could feel he was a bit more relaxed, you pulled back a little, lifting his head up to look at you. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, and it took him a few seconds to get out of his daze.

Ashton’s gaze skipped over yours, instead focusing on the chain hanging from your neck. The silver ring he gave you almost a year ago was hooked on a thin necklace, the weight of the metal resting between your breasts, a comfort you never knew you needed. You still remembered the time when he wore it on his finger, playing with it whenever he started getting nervous. He called it a good luck charm, something he desperately needed while he was chasing after you. But once he got hold of your heart, he gave it to you – since then it became something much more than just a piece of jewellery. For you: a reminder; for others: a warning.

His clumsy fingers wrapped around the ring, slightly tugging on it. You slowly tilted his head up again, trying to catch his eyes. His hazel ones finally found your gaze, and you gave him a small smile, lightly running your fingers over his stubbly jaw.

“Hey, you’re okay?”

Silence, then a nod.

“How about you go and take a shower? Get warmed up,” you rubbed his arms, trying to warm his still cold skin. “And I will change the sheets.”

Another nod.

Ash let go of your necklace, slowly peeling himself out of the bed, starting to go to the bathroom, then stopped, looked back at you. You gave him another encouraging smile, nodded at him that it’s okay, you both will be fine, after which he finally made his way out of the room. When the lock clicked and the shower started up, you let out a breath you were holding back. A thousand questions were running through your mind, but you didn’t want to take too much time thinking about them. You wanted to make sure Ashton was comfortable after his nightmare, that he can come back and relax into the bed, wrapped in your arms, and sleep off this horrible experience.

You started stripping off the sweat soaked sheets, pulling out a fresh set from the drawer, working methodically in changing them. After that you opened the window, letting in fresh air, the slight breeze clearing away the remaining shadows from the room. You reached into another drawer, choosing a soft pair of sweatpants for Ashton, and finally went to the kitchen, making tea, waiting for him to finish up.

The lock on the bathroom door clicked, and it opened with a slight squeak. Ash stood behind the door, a towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping on the tiles from his red hair. You stepped to him, holding the pants out for him. He took them from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours as he did, and that made him look at you.

“I made you tea,” you nodded towards the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe. “If you want some.”

“Thanks,” his voice was quiet and small, and he coughed a little to make his throat work. “I– I’ll be there.”

“Take your time.”

You stepped back to the kitchen, piling up your books and notes to shove them to the corner of the table. You knew there was no way you would go back to studying, not tonight. Any exam could wait – Ashton needed you now.

After a few more minutes he emerged from the bathroom, shuffling to the kitchen, and dropped down onto the chair next to you. He sighed deeply, then leaned forward, resting both his arms on the table, and put his head down on them, hiding his face. You watched him, how his back moved as he was breathing in and out. His muscles were still tense, you could see it from the way he was holding himself. You scooted a bit closer, and slowly put your hand on his elbow, a tentative touch. When he did not flinch away, you started to lightly rub his arm, up to his shoulder, down on his back, then back up again.

When you reached the back of his neck, Ash moved his head to the side, looking at you as you stroked his drying locks with your fingers. His hazel eyes were searching you as you were working through the tangled ends, brushing them back from his face. He let out another small sigh when you touched his face, caressing his cheek, which made him nuzzle into your hand.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, resting your hand back on his arm.

Ashton looked at you for another second, then hid his face back in the crook of his elbow. You waited for him, you knew he needed time to work through the thoughts in his head, to decide if he wanted to face them again. He slowly pushed himself up, reaching for the mug in front of him, taking a sip of his cooling tea. His fingers were running over the rim, circling it mindlessly as he focused on something in front of him.

“You… left me.”

There was silence in the kitchen – his words left you speechless. It sounded silly at first; you knew how you felt about him, how first his attention was unusual, almost uncomfortable at times, and that you wished he would give you just an ounce of space; how you started to miss him when he wasn’t around, how you watched over your shoulder if he would appear somehow, stalk behind you, keeping his distance, but never taking his eyes off of you. You knew he had his reasons to do so, and you learned to love him for that – it wasn’t so hard, he found a way to your heart, and you willingly let him in. You never wanted to let go of him ever again.

“I have no intention in doing that,” you reached out to take his hand in yours, squeezing it. “And no reason.”

“But what if you do?” he whispered, pulling his hand away. “What if you find one?”

“Ash… is this something you’ve been… thinking about lately?” you asked softly, your fingers going up to your necklace, running them over the ring.

He did not answer; his eyes were still trained on the same spot as before. He was drumming on the tabletop, the rhythm getting more and more frantic and complicated. You desperately wanted to reach out and stop him, to make him look at you, to let him know you were there, you were listening, that you wanted to understand. But it seemed he was lost in his own thoughts – thoughts that brought out a nightmare that clearly shook him to the core.

“Ashton,” you said in a small voice. “Don’t push me away. Please.”

Those words made him look at you. Those words were his words, begging you to give him another chance, to make up for the mistakes he made when you met again. They were Ashton’s words, not Fletcher’s; they made you stop in your tracks, made you listen to him. They broke you in a way you’ve known you will never be broken again. That was the first time you’ve really let him into your heart, and you never wanted him to leave.

Ash sighed deeply, slowly turning around in his chair to face you, though his head was down. His fingers nervously twitched in his lap, and he started wringing his hands, looking for the rings he usually wore to play with. He once told you that sometimes he felt naked without them, and he liked wearing at least one to mindlessly spin it around, or take it off and put it back on. You moved a little closer, pushing your knees against his, slowing down his bouncing feet. Leaning forward you reached for him, pushing your fingers between his tightly clasped ones, and interlocked them. There was a slight shake to his hands, and you gently ran your thumb over his skin, trying to calm him again.

“I’m sorry,” he finally breathed, slowly looking up at you from under his lashes. “I’m just… unsure.”

“Of me?” you tilted your head to the side, trying to see all of him. He just shook his head.

“Of myself,” Ashton answered, rubbing your hands with his thumbs. “If I’m good enough for you.”

“Of course you are,” you squeezed his fingers in yours, pushing your forehead against his. “You are my Ashton. How could you not be good enough for me?”

“That’s not what everyone else thinks,” he said with a humourless laugh. “People talk, all over town.”

“Some neighbourhood gossip won’t make me leave you,” you shook your head. “What could they tell me that I don’t already know? I know you, Ash, I know who you are.”

“You have the heart of an angel, and I’m the devil who’s holding you back,” he whispered, tilting his head down.

“Maybe I’ve had enough of heaven,” your hand went to his jaw, slowly tipping his chin up to look back at you. “If hell is where you are, then I’m packing all of my bags to be with you.”

“Y/N…”

“Or maybe they have it the wrong way around,” you continued. “Cause you definitely feel like heaven to me. Maybe it’s not their definition of the place. But screw them – my heaven is all tattooed up and gorgeous.”

A blush coloured his cheek, and he moved closer to rest his forehead on your shoulder, his legs bracketing yours. You were tangled up in each other, silently sitting in the kitchen for a few minutes, Ashton’s hand on your thighs while you played with the hair at the nape of his neck. Then he slowly pulled back, rubbing his eyes – was it tears, or sleep, you didn’t know – and looked back at you again.

“Your parents still hate me,” he added, resting his elbow on the table, leaning his head against his hand.

“They hate everyone,” you answered with a shrug. “They even hate me. That’s not an accomplishment.”

“I’m sure they would prefer anyone else over me,” he searched you with his eyes. “Someone who can give you a real future.”

“What do you think, what does a girl need?” you quirked an eyebrow at him, and it was his turn to shrug.

“Financial security?” he asked, and when you rolled your eyes at him, he continued. “Someone like that guy you work with – what’s his name? Liam?”

“A suit and tie?” you shook your head, putting your hands on his knees to lean closer. “Really, Ash? When I can have you, your jackets and chains, and the fire red Mustang? Well, tough luck, because you’re stuck with me for good.”

“But am I enough for you?” Ashton sighed, reaching for you and holding your face in his hands, making you really look at each other. “I wanna give you the world. Hell, I wanna give you the galaxy. The universe. But I’m just this guy, fixing cars and running my mouth at people. And you… you’re smart and beautiful and could get anyone you set your eyes on.”

“And that’s you,” you nuzzled your face against his hand, looking at him pleadingly. “You’re the only one I want.”

“What if Liam asked you on a date? Or one of the guys at that course? What if you get along so much that you realize that you could just… do better than me?” his gaze slipped down to the ring resting against your chest, saying the next words looking at it. “You know I would do anything for you… but I know I can’t keep you forever.”

“Ash, how long have we known each other?” you asked, reaching for him, brushing his hair behind his ear.

“7 or 8 years. Dunno. Why is that important now?” he sighed, shaking his head.

“What do you think… how many guys did I date during that time?” you questioned him, but did not wait for an answer. “Only two. And you wanna know their names?”

“Please don’t kick me when I’m already down,” he whispered, but you’ve had enough.

“They are Fletcher and Ashton. They are you, Ash. I might have had a few flings and one night stands, and sure, I went on a few dates with guys. But it was only ever you I had a real thing with. It was only you who was ever good enough for me.”

“Then why did you even go on those dates if you didn’t want anything from them?” the question left Ashton before he could stop himself, and you could see him flinch when he realized what he’d said.

“I wanted to know how I felt about other people. I wanted to give myself a chance, see how we could work out. You know – if you never try, you’ll never know,” you shrugged a little while reaching for his hand, slowly interlocking your fingers with his. “And I– I think I wanted to know how you would react.”

“Remember the hole in the wall?” he quirked an eyebrow at you, and you needed to stifle a laugh.

“I was always waiting for you to show up during your dates,” you confessed, squeezing his hand in yours. “You know, just crash them. I wanted you to crash them. I know it took me a long time to let you in…”

“Well, half the time you were mad at me,” he said, leaning closer and resting his forehead against yours. “For one reason, or the other.”

“And in the other half I desperately wanted you to kiss me,” you finished, nuzzling your nose to his.

“You know I would have done it in a second,” he breathed. “I wanted to walk up to every single one of those guys and tell them that you’re… that you’re…”

“Come on,” you whispered, licking your lips. “Say it.”

“Mine.”

“Don’t think I was never asked on dates at my job or at school,” you gazed at him while saying the next part. “I was, numerous times. You know what I say to them when they call me pretty? Thank you, my boyfriend thinks so too. Or when they invite me for coffee? Thanks, but Ash is already bringing me some. And when they don’t want to let it go, I say: trust me, you do not want to meet him.”

“Are you really saying those things?” he asked you, and you nodded.

“I’m also implying that I’m having the best sex of my life, and I don’t plan on giving up on that,” you finished with a smile.

A moment later Ashton started laughing – it was his first real laugh of the night, and he hid his face, trying to stifle his giggles. It was the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. Suddenly the night wasn’t that dark, but instead everything seemed to start to glow a little bit. It was Ashton’s smile, shining through the blacks, dark blues and grays of the night, warming up the chilling air around you, shifting everything back to your usual teasing, but loving normal, the one you’ve built up together.

“I love your smile,” you whispered when he finally looked back at you, still trying to catch his breath. “I know I’ve always told you that you should wipe that grin off of your face, but god, I’m happy you never did. I just… there are so many things I just love about you that I’ve thought I hated before. Like your snake tattoo, or your loud car and obnoxious sunglasses… your terrible jokes and sexual innuendos, and how you never fail to say them at the worst times… I love your stupid red hair, and…”

“My hair is not stupid,” Ash mumbled, a smile still playing at the corner of his mouth.

“No,” you shook your head, reaching once again for him to brush your fingers through his red locks. “No, it’s not.”

Ash nuzzled closer, closing his eyes for a moment to enjoy the caresses and light tugs on his hair, making a small noise that almost sounded like purring. He turned his head, brushing his lips against your wrist as you wrapped a curl around your finger, pushing it behind his ear, stroking your hand down his cheek and jaw. Hazel eyes followed the movement of your fingers until you ran your thumb over his chin, and his gaze finally found yours.

“Can I kiss you?” you asked him softly, pulling back a little to see his face.

“Are you asking for permission?” there was another small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and a slight blush coloured his cheeks.

“Just checking if you are in the right headspace,” you returned his smile, and he nodded shortly.

“I would love that.”

Without a second thought you leaned forward, one of your hands sliding up the back of his neck and into his hair, the other one cradling his jaw, tilting his head a little to the side. His breath was hot on your face as you moved closer, cheeks and noses brushing, lips slowly pressing against each other – one soft, the other slightly chapped. You kissed his bottom lip, moving to the top, nuzzling closer and closer, until he opened his mouth and let you kiss him deeper, brushing his tongue against yours as you both tasted the other. Ash made a needy little sound as you nipped on his lips and kissed his chin, his jaw, brushing against his cheek as you nudged your nose against the soft skin behind his ear.

“I chose you, Ashton. I’ve been choosing you every single day since that night on the beach, and I’ll do it as long as you let me. I’m freakin’ in love with you if that hasn't been clear before,” you breathed softly, kissing the shell of his ear. “You’ve been on my mind for the last 8 years, and if that’s not love, then you have to find a better word for me, because I’m failing here, and you know I’m good with words. But you just have this effect on you where I completely lose my sanity, and I would gladly give up on it forever, if it meant I get to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Ash reached for you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you out of your chair, and sitting you on his lap. His hand rested on your thigh, keeping you close to his body, as his fingers ran through your hair, guiding your face to his again. It was his turn to kiss you, and he started with the softest of touches, just to feel each other’s breath on your lips, the warmness of the other’s skin, the shiver running through you when you’ve finally lost your patience. Noses and lips pushed together, and he kissed you deeply, tongue brushing against yours as you were holding onto his shoulders. His scent clouded your mind, his touch burnt your skin, and you never wanted this moment to end.

“I love you,” Ash pulled away just enough to brush his lips against yours as he spoke. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You pressed another kiss on his temple, cuddling closer in his lap to feel as much of his skin as you could. His arms wrapped around you more strongly, and he rested his head on your shoulder, pushing his face into your neck. For a few minutes you’ve stayed like this – slow caresses on waists and backs, fingers brushing over hair and tattoos, lips leaving small kisses wherever they could.

“Come on,” you ran your thumb over Ashton’s cheek. “I think it’s time we go back to bed.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to keep you away from your studying,” he started apologizing, but you shook your head, smiling at him.

“Screw exams. You’ll always be my first priority,” you tugged a little on his hair, tilting his head up towards you. “How does that sound to you?”

“Like something I’ve always wanted from you,” Ash returned your smile, then reached for your hand to kiss your knuckles. “Thank you, beautiful.”

You climbed down from his lap and reached for him to pull him up from the chair. You made our way back to the bedroom where the sheets were freshly changed and the pillows fluffed up just as Ashton liked it. He hesitated for a moment – the nightmare was still fresh in his mind, and even after you’ve talked through everything, he was still a little bit shaken from it.

“It’s alright,” you leaned against his side, pressing a kiss on the tattoo on his arm. “I’m here now.”

“I’m– scared to fall back to sleep,” he admitted, then sighed deeply. “It’s stupid, I know.”

“No, Ash. It’s perfectly normal,” you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Don’t ever feel ashamed, especially not because of your dreams. You’re human, it’s okay to fall sometimes. I’ll always be here to pick you up.”

“How did I get so lucky?” he turned to you, gathering you in his arms for a hug, resting his head on top of yours.

“Must have been that lucky charm of yours,” you answered with a smile, feeling the ring resting between your bodies.

“You are my lucky charm,” Ashton whispered, brushing the hair back from your face.

“Well, then you should definitely hold onto me.”

He huffed at you with a smile, shaking his head. You pulled him down on the bed, both of you getting comfortable under the blankets – Ash scooted as close to you as he could, nuzzling his face between your head and shoulder. You wrapped your arms around him, letting him rest his weight on you, running your fingers through his hair.

“You smell so good,” he mumbled against your skin, pushing his nose to your pulse point. “Am I not too heavy?”

“You’re perfect where you are,” you continued brushing your fingers over his curls, skimming them over the back of his neck, down his shoulders, then back up again. “How are you feeling?”

“Like maybe I will be able to fall asleep,” he breathed, then reached for the ring hanging from your neck. “Is it okay if I stay like this?”

“Your peace of mind is worth every numb limb and hours spent awake,” you kissed his forehead, then the hand holding onto the ring. “You would do the same for me. And just so you know, you make an excellent pillow.”

“You too,” he closed his eyes, resting his hand back on your side, cuddling close. “Will you… will you hold my hand? Please?”

Without another word you slid your fingers against his, interlocking them. He squeezed your hand in return, letting out one last sigh as he slowly let go of all the tension that kept him awake. His body melted against yours, muscles relaxing as his breathing evened out, and in a few minutes all you could feel was his light snoring tickling your neck. You brushed your fingers through his hair again, pressing one last goodnight kiss on his forehead before resting back against your pillows.

Ashton slept soundly in your arms, head resting on your shoulder, arm thrown over your waist, fingers interlocked on the bed. He fit perfectly against you, his weight all the comfort you needed in your life. You would have stayed up all night just to make sure he had no more nightmares, but his soft sleepy sounds slowly lulled you to sleep too. The last thing you remembered was his lips brushing against your neck as he shuffled in his sleep, and you fell asleep with a smile on your face. You knew for sure he was your forever – and you planned on reminding him of that every single day for the rest of your lives. Even if it meant chasing away his nightmares every night. Because he was worth it.

#ashton irwin #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin fanfic #afic: a permanent chase #series: a permanent chase #ashton irwin fanfiction #fiction time

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qtssvnwoo · 1 year

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Behind Closed Doors-Chapter One

A/N: So sorry for the wait but here it is!! The first chapter of Behind Closed Doors!! I had a major writing block for a while and I just got out of it so excuse me if anything is bad. ENJOY!!!

IMPORTANT THINGS: Your last name in this series is Barlowe (Bar-Low) because it sounds cool. As of right now, it’s the fall of the third year.

Word Count: 2.0k

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of fighting

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Dark rooms, secret looks, quiet laughs, and crossing paths. With hurried touches, and scrambling to the next class. The small smiles and shared butterbeer in reserved areas. That's what your relationship with Draco Malfoy was like. You didn’t remember life before him, but you definitely remembered the fight to get him.

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It was unusually quiet today. Usually, you were surrounded by the lack of genius that was your twin brothers Bennet and Calum. But today, you were freed of their idiotic mess of so-called “company”, and finally had some alone time to sit and relax and work on your work for the other classes. Or, so you thought. It was never a dull moment with you. You always had something going on, or something happening around you that diverted your time and energy away from something that was very insignificant.

And this time, it was the insolence of your brother and the infamous Draco Malfoy.

You sighed as you closed your books and directed your attention to the source of the commotion. Bennet was standing there, an enraged look creeped upon his face the more he heard Draco speak. His olive eyes blaring with a fire that could not be put out.

While Bennet constrained himself, trying not to deck Draco in the face, Calum fidgeted with his hands, his oversized glasses falling down his nose while he stared at Bennet and Draco.

Draco stood there. His shoulders high, and his smirk everlasting as he crossed his arms and stood confidently as he watched the anger seep through your brother's mouth. You were not going to get yourself involved, you had no interest in getting involved in your brother's quarrels (unless it got physical). But as you looked forward at the direction of the argument, your eyes met. You tried to look away,

But oh, la manera en la que te mira. (The way he looked at you)

Those gray eyes stared deeply into yours and as you looked you could see his expression change. You saw his gaze drop to yours, and you saw his smirk fade and get washed over with a gaze that could only be described as wonder.

He had truly never seen someone as soft as you before. He felt his heartbeat quicken as he continued to study your face. The way your hair fell into your face, and how your eyes were glossed with curiosity. You intrigued Draco Malfoy. Something that not all people could say they experienced.

Your brother seemed to notice the sudden shift in Dracos' normally cocky mood, when Bennet suddenly yelled something. Suddenly, Draco’s face went out of view as Bennet’s fist collided with Draco's jaw. Before you could process what was happening, Draco and Bennet were in a full-blown fist fight. Bennet was on top of Draco, his fist repeatedly hitting Draco’s face, as Draco tried to throw your brother off of him.

You ran over, pushing through the crowd of people surrounding the fight and encouraging your brother to continue the assault of Malfoy. You looked around, searching for your other brother when he came across Harry Potter and his gang.

You weren’t necessarily friends with them, but nor were you enemies. But the way they were cheering with the rest of the crowd, encouraging your bone-headed brother to continue to beat Draco Malfoy senselessly infuriated you.

You shoved through the last few people before, quite literally kicking your brother in the gut, causing him to whine in pain and fall off of Draco. You stepped over Draco complaining about how he would “tell his precious daddy about this” and grabbed your brother by his ear before smacking him in the head.

People went quiet, and they whispered as they watched you drag your brother away from the fight, but not before you looked back at Draco with a sympathetic look, showing him that you apologized on your brother's behalf. And to Draco, that made his heart soar. He held his aching jaw bone and looked at your back as you walked away.

Draco smiled to himself, a giddy smile that others could only see as a ‘lovestruck’ gaze.

Once you dragged Bennet into a less crowded hallway, and had Calum trailing behind you, you put both of them against the wall and started to interrogate them.

“What the hell were you doing, Bennet?” Bennet looked down and muttered something incoherent. “I asked you, what the HELL were you doing?”

“I said I was talking with Draco.”

“Talking? Talking? What the hell do you mean talking? You nearly punched his face in!”

“I really should've fully punched it in. Maybe he would’ve thought twice before telling his daddy about every single thing.”

“Bennet.” You warned. He glared at you and sighed as he leaned up against the wall.

“He was saying how bad we were at quidditch. How we shouldn’t even be on the team, and how,” Bennet paused, as if the next words were unspeakable. You studied his face, and you could see the anger in his face piling up like a stack of dominos.

“Draco said how we act and play just like dad.” Calum spoke up.

oh.

You immediately knew and felt the same anger as Bennet did, but unlike Bennet, you kept yourself calm and you just took a deep breath before speaking again.

“I get that you're angry Bennet, but you know what moms gonna say.”

“She’s just gonna tell me not to do it again, like all the other times.”

“No Bennet, you know she’ll make you resign from the team if you get into another fight. If you keep letting yourself slip like this instead of focusing on school, she’ll pull you out. And Bennet, I can’t make excuses for you forever you know.”

Bennet refused to make eye contact with you because he knew you were right, but he didn’t want to admit it. He knew that if he kept letting his grades drop and his anger rise then your mother would pull him out of anything to make him focus on school again.

“Okay. I’ll be more careful.” You sighed in relief as you turned to get your stuff. But, Bennet grabbed your arm, making you stumble backwards and looking at him in confusion.

“But listen to this. I will destroy Malfoy in every way that I can. He’s said too much about my- our family to let it slide. If he says anything more I will bash his face in.” You rolled your eyes and gave both your brothers a condescending look.

“That's between you and God boys.” Was all you said before you walked away. You heard Bennet scoff and Calum sigh. As the bell rang and all of you hurried off to class.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco was thinking about you the whole class. It was infuriating. He couldn’t get the image of you in the field out of his brain and people were noticing the sudden shift in Dracos mood throughout the day that even Harry Potter was a tad bit concerned.

As for you, you tried your best to distance yourself away from him. You two never really talked, but you were paired up as lab partners a couple times. And those couple times meant something to you, as you had steadily developed something for the boy. And you hated yourself for it.

How could you even like someone like him? Someone so insolent, rude, mean and….handsome. The thought of Draco staring at you in the field was on your mind the rest of the day, the image wouldn’t leave you alone, and the more you thought about it the more butterflies appeared and flew around in your stomach. You knew if your brothers ever found out about your feelings for Draco they would go crazy. And you didn’t wanna hurt or cause your brothers to look at you differently just because of a stupid crush.

You were on your way to class, thinking about a plethora of things that caused your mind to be clouded and confused. That’s when you bumped into Draco Malfoy, quite literally. Your books fell from your hands and the pages of your notebook scattered across the floor.

‘Great, just great. Another late to class.’ was all you thought about as you tried to scavenge the missing parts of your notebook, and pick up your books. You were just about done when you saw a hand reach out to you, holding one of the designs from your notebook.

You muttered a quick thank you while taking the paper. But, something caught your attention. The glistening silver ring on the middle finger of the person who you had bumped into. The ring was beautiful, it had two letters carved in the side of it, and a silver snake reaching across the length of the ring. The snake's eyes glared at you, the blaring emeralds shined at you as you put two and two together and figured out who the person in front of you was.

“Malfoy.”

“Barlowe.”

You two stared at each other and from your side, it was a mix of hate, fear, and being flustered. While form him, he stared at you with content and eagerness.

“Thanks for helping me out earlier.” He laughed. You looked at his face and saw his black eye, bruised cheek and cut lip. He somehow still managed to pull at your heartstrings when he looked as beat up as he did. But, nonetheless you kept it cool.

“I didn’t help you out. I was helping my brother not get suspended from the school.” Draco looked at you with a raised eyebrow. It’s like he was taunting you, like he knew you had feelings for him and decided to make it harder for you, just because he could.

“It seemed like you were helping me.”

“Well I wasn’t.”

“Huh, what a pity.”

No more words were said, you two just stood in the hall and stared at each other. Draco’s eyebrow was still cocked and you were fidgeting with your papers. The look he was giving you was sending you over the edge. It made you angry how one person can look so condescending and hot at the same time.

“Move Malfoy. I have class.”

“Is that the best excuse you have?”

“She said move Malfoy.” Fuck.

Bennet stood behind you, and you didn’t have to turn around to feel the anger bruning off of his skin. Calum stood next to him, not saying anything, but having an equally as formidable look on his face.

Draco shifted uncomfortably for a second before angrily staring at your brothers. He didn’t say anything, but you could tell he wanted to say at least something.

“Leave us alone Malfoy. Unless you want that bruise to get worse.” Calum threatened. It was a rare site to see Calum ever threaten anyone no matter what the cause, but you knew not to bring it up in later conversions as he always got embarrassed about such things.

Draco looked between your brothers and you before scowling at them and muttering his infamous line “what until my father hears about this.” But before he strolled off, he looked at you, and he winked before turning himself around and disappearing into a hallway.

“Did he just…”

“Wink at Y/n? Yes.”

Your brothers stood there confused, while you stood there with a rush of heat racing its way up to your cheeks. You knew Draco Malfoy was flirty, you told yourself, that was nothing different.

You and your brothers made your way to class. Your brothers rambled on and on about the upcoming game, but the actions of Draco flooded your mind, and even during the lesson you couldn't get the image of his deceitful yet enticing smirk, and the way he smiled at you or the sound of his half hearted laugh.

You groaned as you put your head on the desk to try and hide the obvious redness on your face and ears. You knew you couldn’t be with him, and you knew that even having the slightest feelings for Draco was unspeakable between you and your brothers. So why him? Why the boy that made your brothers miserable, why did it just have to be the rival?

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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suekreandtheidiots · 1 month

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Teenage Squad

Any time I get into Hallie and Lance's teenage saga, it probably appears like it was only the two of them plus their friend Cal, but that wasn't at all the case - many others shaped their young lives and I actually have quite a bunch of their classmates on my mind with whom they 'ruled the school' together.

Some of them are these lads. This is just a noseless doodle but I still think they're cute. 😂 They are on their post graduation vacation here. Lance had plans to come with them but once it was certain that his pa would not survive the Summer of 2006, he dropped out and stayed home.

I mentioned Cal here and there already. His full name is Calum Hamish Fitzgibbons (*November 6th 1987) and he was a nice kid, actually. A teenager of his time, with the appropriate brush of occasional overconfidence, because he had the looks and the wit. A lot of his peers just looked up to him... literally, because at sixteen, Cal was already 6'4 ft tall (topped out at 6'7 ft). Cal wasn't bad, he was just spoiled. His parents are quite wealthy and he was used to getting whatever he wanted, without having to put in any effort. That being said, when he was pining for Hallie, he kinda just expected that she would see the light one day, but he never dared to make an actual move to win her over. Partly because he didn't see the necessity, and also because romantic feelings for a friend are an awkward thing sometimes. When she didn't just fall for him like he had hoped, and even picked his best friend over him during his absence, he was raging for several reasons. Being a bad person isn't one of them... but a male (teenage) ego is often a fragile one.

Mark McGrath (*February 7th 1987) had to repeat 8th grade and somehow started hanging out with the cool kids of the year. Mark was a cool, calm and collected fella, never as loud and obnoxious as others, but well, how do they say? Still waters run deep. Mark was the one to ask for "special favours", such as getting weed/speed/acid/whatnot. Mark knew everyone and everything. Mark was the guy one would call if they had to get rid of a body. Mark never judged. Mark just did what had to be done. Mark was... remarkable. There is not much else to say, actually... which is kinda due to the fact that not even his closer friends ever got to know him on a super deep level and just enjoyed hanging out with the easygoing guy he was.

Timothy "Tim" Irvine (*March 3rd 1988) was the good soul of the gang. Very outspoken, not shy to voice his opinions, but where others of the same age just blurted out with whatever came to their minds at the moment, Tim actually thought about what he said. True friend material, always eager to understand both sides in an argument and staying respectful, even when mad. Didn't love what Lance did behind Cal's back while they were away on vacation, but was very willing to cut his friend some slack. Was definitely not okay with the way Cal, Fozzy and Mark wanted to pay Lance back and had a little fall out with them as well. Last person of the former gang that Lance sent a message to ("I'm alright, thanks. Take care, mate!"), after the blow up, and before they all went their separate ways in late Summer 2006.

It's hard to sum up Lowell "Fozzy" Foster (* September 17th 1987) in just a few sentences... he was an experience. Not at all a bad kid either, but... well, let's just say that Fozzy's loyalty and integrity had limits, namely any time he sensed that there could be something in for him, when there was a lass he liked involved... or when doing the right thing was simply too much of a hassle. Aside from all this, Fozzy was a music freak, too, which is what always brought him and Lance back together, despite their quarrels. In the end, Fozzy enjoyed being with his friends most... even if he should've had looked up a thing or two about what friendship actually means, but well. They had all been young and dumb after all.

#idiot artwork #noseless doodle #mark mcgrath #tim irvine #cal fitzgibbons #lowell foster #the teenage saga

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jimmyneutron877 · 2 years

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More of our girl Sevvy ✨️

Song inspo: Rain In Ibiza - Felix Jaehn, The Stickmen Project and Calum Scott 🌌

Over the blaring music, crowds of hot people and the bright neon lights you could see her. You could feel her watching you, stalking you from across the bar where she sat with her gang, swigging alcohol, gambling and laughing. The two of you have locked eyes with each other many times ever since you walked in with your your friends.

You smiled slightly, feeling her gaze again and took a sip from your glass of water, all of your friends had since abandoned you however you remained sober for them incase they came back to you.

"Hey" a thick, smooth voice disrupted you from your thoughts and you looked up seeing her "May I sit?" She asked gesturing to the empty chair across from you.

"Oh hi, yeah sure go ahead" you leaned back in your chair watching her pull the chair out and sit down. You took her in while she was distracted. Wow she was huge, tall dark and handsome with a side of muscles and her shimmer fueled bionic left arm.

Then she lifted her head and looked at you.

"What's your name?" She quirked her brow at you.

"Y/N, yours?"

"Sevika"

You nodded and looked around at the people, kind of growing nervous under her presence.

"Are you waiting for someone? You look nervous?" She leaned forward with a genuine expression.

"Oh, well actually I came here with friends but they kind of disappeared on me, so I just keep looking around in hopes to see them I guess, know they're alright" You explained.

"Oh yeah, I've seen them, they're all good, I think they left a while ago though" She chuckled.

"Oh" was all you could let out. They left you in a bar, thanks guys. "Well this is awkward, I should go too then" You went to get up but her hand grabbed your wrist, "Don't go alone, I'll come with you" She got up with you.

"Oh no need I haven't had any alcohol so I'm completely sober" You assured her, slightly hoping her hold on your wrist would let up.

"I don't care, this place is dangerous and I don't want to judge but I've never seen YOU down here before and I don't want you to get hurt" She stated matter of factly.

Damn she's good at judging characters. She was right though, you're just here because your friends invited you to stay with them from Piltover. They were from Zaun but you guys were all pretty tight.

You sighed "You're right, fine you can come with me" She smiled at this and let go of your wrist, walking you out of the bar.

It was a comfortable silence walking to your friends apartment. Once you arrived at the entrance to the building you turned to her.

"Well thank you for walking me home Sevika" You smiled up at her.

"No problem, will I see you again?" She leaned on the wall raising a brow down at you.

You thought for a moment before shrugging, "I hope so, I'll try to get down here more often if you want" You shot her suggestive smirk.

She chuckled and nodded, "I would love that Y/N, please do, I'd love to get to know you better, if I'm being honest" She looked up at the clouds before returning to you.

"Alright then, I'd like to know you better too Sev" You answered truthfully.

"Good, glad we're on the same page" She turned to leave but you gently held her hand and turned her back around.

"What is it-"

She was cut off by you reaching up and pulling her down into a long kiss. The kiss lasted a few minutes before you two pulled away. You both laughed, exchanged numbers and bid a proper goodbye.

Maybe my friends ditching me wasn't such a bad thing after all.

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>this is my own work, do not copy/steal/translate<

#arcane #fanfiction #arcane x reader #sevika x reader #x reader #fanfic #lesbian #wattpad #arcane oneshot #sevika arcane

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kindahoping4forever · 8 months

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Calum @ The 5SOS Show Tour Madrid - 24 September 2023

#always so many tones with this man and i love it 🤌🏻#5sos #5 seconds of summer #calum hood #calum #the 5sos show tour madrid #kh4f post #we've got bass boss we've got smiley baby we've got pouty baby we've got arm arm looking hench my brother and ofc obscene neck exposure man #the gang is truly all here 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻#👄#🧛🏻‍♀️#do you ever just love arm #looking hench #baby but how much you benchin big boy #@ calum you are cordially invited to an evening of squishing cheeks followed by clapping cheeks please rsvp at your leisure #the revival of that tag was not on my 2023 bingo card if I'm honest but here we are #in conclusion #🤸🏻‍♀️🤸🏻‍♀️🤸🏻‍♀️🤸🏻‍♀️🤸🏻‍♀️🤸🏻‍♀️#the 5sos show tour

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thatbookgirl1118 · 12 days

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Five songs Luke sings to Julie + one song Julie sings to Luke (modern au)

1. Butterflies by Abe Parker (confession of feelings)

2. Say You Won't Let Go by James Arthur (first I love you)

3. You Are The Reason by Calum Scott (apology)

4. Perfect by Ed Sheeran (first anniversary)

5. Love You Forever by Joshua Basset (+ the hsmtmts cast ig) (proposal/engagement)

+ 1: invisible string by Taylor Swift (wedding reception)

And yes, I know Love You Forever was *literally* written as a first i love you, but i think the idea of the rest of the gang taking the harmonies and all sort of jointly proposing to Julie is just too fucking cute

Is there a fic coming?

...who knows. maybe lol

#jatp juke #jukebox #julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #reggie peters #alex mercer #willie jatp #jatp #jatp netflix #5 + 1 fic #5 + 1 things #song fic #modern au #hsmtmts #kinda??

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lovesosweeet · 5 months

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KNOW IT ALL x THE BAND CAMINO

part 7

a calum hood songfic

read 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

two years ago

Michael and Crystal’s wedding is the unofficial debut of Tillie and Calum’s situationship. Tillie is a grooms-woman, Calum the best man, and they’re surprising the happy couple with a performance of “Lover” by Taylor Swift during the reception.

Tillie is already tipsy by the time they get to the “groom’s room” for the morning. Calum was tasked with getting bagels for all the guys, meanwhile Tillie was making all the guys Irish coffees and trying to get everyone else hyped up. He walks in with his giant bag of bagels and finds his girl chanting ‘chug’ at Luke. He’s just drinking a bottle of water.

“Tillie, you gotta take it down a notch,” Ashton says, giggling over his mug of spiked coffee.

She whips her head around, grinning evilly. “You wanna be next, Irwin?”

Calum laughs, plopping the bagels onto the table and cracking open the bottle of orange juice he’d bought at the bagel shop.

“Honestly, maybe you should make all of us chug a bottle of water. Gotta be hydrated for the big day,” Cal says and takes a sip of his juice.

“Water is for losers, Cal,” Tillie teases.

“Tills, I’d actually like to remember the best day of my life. I will be drinking water until the reception,” the groom comments. He rips into the bag of bagels, grabbing an everything for himself. “Thanks for getting the bagels, Cal.”

Tillie pouts, running up to Michael and jumping onto him like a koala, making him nearly lose his balance. “You at least have to take a shot!”

Michael groans, just continuing what he was doing. He spreads cream cheese on his bagel while Tillie clings to him. She’s not heavy, and she’s supporting herself. It’s just a nuisance to have a human stuck to you while you try to make a bagel. “Let me guess, you’re not letting go until I agree to take a shot.”

She grins. “You know me so well.”

“I’ll drink an Irish coffee, but that’s it,” he offers as hopefully an acceptable compromise.

At that, Tillie lets go of Michael, dropping to her feet again. She heads to the bar in the back corner where she’s made a few other Irish coffees already this morning, quickly mixing one up for the groom.

“Tommy, want one?” She calls.

“I’m good, T. But thank you.”

“Knock knock!” A familiar voice calls from the doorway, not bothering to wait for an ‘okay’ before he walks in. Ryan and Andy, the boys’ tour photographers, walk in, cameras around their necks and coffees in their hands.

The group of guys, and Tillie, cheer as they enter. They all exchange hugs and greetings, and the photographers stop at the table to get bagels for themselves, too. Crystal hired a more traditional wedding photographer for the bridal party and the rest of the day, but for the groomsmen, Mike just said he’d have Ryan and Andy get photos of them getting ready, since they’d be attending the wedding anyway.

While the whole gang eats bagels and Tillie forces Irish coffees into everyone’s hands, the photographers grab candid shots of the groomsmen in their matching black sweatsuits. Tillie’s is massive on her, since they ordered unisex sweats. The men’s size small is roughly a women’s medium, and Tillie is and extra small across the board.

Michael’s says “groom” in black embroidery on the chest, with the date embroidered in white on the cuff. The guys’ and Tillie’s say “groomsman” and Calum’s says “best man.” They all thought they were goofy, but Crystal insisted they do something. They settled on these, hoping the subtle embroidery comes off as a little less cheesy.

Unlike Crystal and the bridesmaids, this group doesn’t really have much to do to get ready for the wedding, so their day is mostly spent goofing off. While Tillie does her hair and makeup, the boys play beer pong and do makeshift karaoke using Youtube and a whiskey bottle as a microphone. Once Tillie is ready to go, she helps Michael do his hair.

Michael has done his hair to go on stage countless times, so he could easily do it himself, but Tillie said that this is the one day in his life that he shouldn’t have to do his own hair. Calum thought it was sweet that Tillie was being such a good friend and whispered to Ryan to make sure he got pictures of the interaction.

When Michael disappears to go do his first look, Calum takes a seat next to Tillie on a leather couch, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She relaxes into his side quickly, leaning her head on his chest.

“Are you excited?” He asks.

“Of course!”

Calum smiles. “Me too. Are you gonna cry?”

Tillie cackles. She’s not entirely emotionless, but crying at weddings is definitely not something she has on her resume. “Who do you think I am? Hell no. Are you?”

His cheeks tinge pink and he hangs his head. “Probably.”

She looks up at him with a pouted lip and grabs his cheek between her fingers and thumb, pinching him. “Aw, aren’t you just the cutest!” She coos exaggeratedly.

He rolls his eyes and pulls her tighter against himself. “I’ve known Michael since we were so young. It’s a big day. I love them.”

She smiles, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s sweet, Thomas. It’s a nice feeling to have people you care about that much.”

“Woah,” Andy says as he stares at the two of them cuddled up on the couch. “So this is like, a thing now?”

He’d seen the pictures of them online. The hickies on their necks and interlocked hands. He had seen and heard the rumors, but he knew Tillie. He had spent a lot of time with her on tour, and he knew her habits. He also knew that Calum had a thing for the spunky girl, but he didn’t think anything was ever going to come of it. He thought maybe this was a one or two night thing, but now, he’s seeing it in person, almost two months after the first round of photos went around.

It seems like Tillie is actually dating him. It seems like they’re happy together. He had to see it up close to believe it.

He believes it now.

“Is that a problem for you, Andrew?” Tillie asks. She places a hand on Calum’s leg and squeezes it. He pinches her side in response, so she does it again.

“No, no! Not at all. You guys are cute. Just a little shocking at first.” Andy holds his camera up to his eye and snaps a photo of the two of them cuddled up on the couch before they can even recognize what’s happening.

That’s when the day of coordinator walks in and says they have 20 minutes to finish getting ready and to line up. Tillie groans, not wanting to put on her dress. Since she’s standing with the guys, her dress is black to match their tuxes, even though the bridesmaids are all wearing champagne, gold, and pink.

She gets a kiss on the cheek from Calum before she heads to the bathroom to change into the one shoulder chiffon gown that Crystal picked out for her. She was given the OK to wear Converse with it, thankfully, since her feet will be mostly hidden by the dress. When she reenters the room, Calum grins.

“You look so good,” he gushes, his hands on his face while he takes in the stunning woman in front of him. Her hair is dark brown for the wedding, curled and pinned so it cascades only over her right shoulder, and while she got dressed, she put on a coat of her favorite red lipstick.

He walks up to her, bending down to kiss her, but she sticks her hand up in between their faces.

“No! Not when I have my makeup done,” she says with a tone that comes off as ‘how did you not know this.’

He pouts. “Not even on the cheek?”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine, one kiss on the cheek.”

Cal pecks her cheek lightly before he grabs her by the shoulders, spinning her around so she can walk in front of him, but leaving his hands on her shoulders. He massages them while they walk to line up for the ceremony. She is first in line, while Calum is last, as the best man. Michael ended up having Cal as the best man solely because he’s known him the longest, so he kept that same energy when ‘ranking’ the rest of his groomsmen. Tillie has known him the least amount of time, so she’s on the opposite end from Calum.

She doesn’t care. She’s just excited to be a part of this day for Michael. There aren’t a lot of people in this world that she considers family, but Michael earned that title long ago. She’s happy to wear a stuffy dress and spend the day around people who are all crying if it means she’s celebrating her brother.

The ceremony is short but incredibly sweet. As expected, Calum cries, and so does every single member of 5SOS. Actually, Tillie is pretty sure she’s the only member of the bridal party who doesn’t at least tear up. She smiles the whole time, in awe that two people are both so in love and so surrounded by love that there’s hardly a dry eye in the room while they vow their lifelong dedication to each other.

The reception is an open bar, which means Tillie is ordering trays of shots and challenging everyone to take them. She’s so wrapped up in cheering and whooping as she gets person after person to take a gulp of burning tequila that she doesn’t notice that the DJ has been cut off and Luke and Sierra are on a small stage.

When she realizes, she halts and sets the now empty tray on the closest table.

“Hi, everyone,” Luke says. “Sierra and I have prepared a little song. Please dance while we sing, because it’d be really awkward if everyone just stared at us.”

Everyone in the room laughs, but nobody moves to start dancing again, even as Luke plays the opening notes. Tillie recognizes it immediately and smiles, her eyes searching the room for her guy. Calum appears by her side in seconds, wrapping his arm around her waist to let her know he’s there.

“Can I have this dance?” Cal asks.

Tillie blushes and smiles. “If I have to,” she huffs sarcastically. She grabs his hand and pulls him to the dance floor while Luke and Sierra cover “Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis.

Calum and Tillie dance to the song with everyone, and Tillie can’t pretend she doesn’t feel Michael staring at them with a huge smile. He’s happy to see the two of them so happy on his big day. Calum has the dorkiest, cheesiest grin as he stares down at the girl he’s wanted for so long. Her cheeks are extra flushed now, feeling a little uncomfortable with all the eyes on her during what is the most heartfelt dance she’s ever shared with anyone, but she’s happy in this moment.

She feels like the song is spot on. She feels like she’s falling in love, and it’s terrifying and exciting at the same time.

When the song ends, Cal nods his head toward the stage with a raised eyebrow. He’s asking Tillie if she wants to go sing their song now. She nods in response, once more dragging Calum behind her.

Calum takes the acoustic guitar from Luke, who looks surprised. They hadn’t told anyone they were also planning on singing.

Tillie stands behind the mic while Calum takes the stool Luke was just using. Crystal and Michael are watching them with sincere surprise, but they’re both excited to see whatever the duo on stage is going to share. They are both talented enough to kill whatever performance they have planned, and they know them so well that it’ll be something special to the Cliffords.

“Hi folks,” Tillie starts, giggling as Calum almost slips off the stool next to her while he tries to get comfortable. “First off, cheers to the happy couple!” Everyone cheers.

“Okay, no, you’re supposed to drink. Everybody, drink.” She takes a sip of the rum and Coke next to her as a demonstration while the whole room laughs. About half of them succumb to yet another attempt of Tillie’s peer pressure.

Calum just watches her in awe.

“Now, I know that a very special someone is a Swiftie,” Tillie continues. “In that vein, Thomas and I — actually, hold up! Can we get a round of applause for the best man?!”

Calum hangs his head in embarrassment while the whole room hoots and hollers with praise.

“Okay, back to me,” she says, making everyone laugh. “We’re gonna cover madam Swift’s ‘Lover’ for the happy couple.”

Michael looks at his best friends with tears in his eyes as they begin the song, and Crystal is already crying from Luke and Sierra’s performance. She reaches up and wipes the tears from under Michael’s eyes before she pulls him to her to dance again. Tillie hadn’t felt like crying that badly until she saw that.

She wishes she could find a love that would mean someone would wipe tears from under her eyes and pull her closer in that moment, even if she’d rather pull away.

The weirdest part of that, for her, is knowing that Calum wants to be that person, and she is letting him close enough that he may be able to.

Their performance goes without a hitch. Together they harmonize beautifully and Tillie has palpable chemistry with Calum. He stares at her longingly as she hits the high notes and he loves how her nose scrunches up when she does. He’s pleasantly surprised at the end of the song when she walks over to stand closer to him and looks him in the eye.

“Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close, forever and ever?” She sings with a smile.

He’s on a high by the time the song ends and everyone applauds them. He can’t help himself from planting repeated kisses to her forehead before they take a quick bow.

They reenter the audience and the DJ resumes his music. Tillie grabs her rum and Coke and holds it up as she dances her way back into the crowd. Michael steps away from his wife so he can go find Tillie and Calum — but mostly Tillie, even though Calum is following her around as he has done since that night in Montreal.

“Matilda!” Michael singsongs, wrapping her into a hug.

“Michael!” She mocks.

“What the hell was that?!”

She shrugs, her eyes flitting to the tall Māori man to her left who’s smiling at her in a way she can only describe as lovingly. “Crystal likes Taylor. We thought it was fitting.”

Mike hugs her again so he can more discreetly whisper into her ear. “Don’t be going soft on me, now.”

With her hand that’s not holding her drink, she pinches the groom on his side as hard as she can. “Never.”

When they’ve hugged and Michael has given Calum an embrace, too, Mike puts a hand on each of their shoulders. “Thank you guys, seriously, for everything. I love you both, but I’m gonna go hang with my wife.”

For the first time in her life, Tillie is at a wedding and pondering the thought of what her own wedding might look like someday. Even stranger: the person she’d consider marrying is staring at her, wonderstruck, imagining the exact same thing. Tillie has Calum’s suit jacket draped over her, swallowing her tiny frame, and stares up at him with stars in her eyes,

She doesn’t stop him when he bends down to kiss her, knowing her lipstick is a lost cause at this point.

Standing in the Los Angeles January coolness under the stars, they’re both over the moon. Surrounded by people they love, they’re in their own little world as they sway to a song neither of them is listening to.