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morningfears · 7 months

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Second Chance

rating: pg

Summary: Ashton was your first love. It was a case of right person, wrong time. But sometimes, life gives you second chances. Warnings: None, just cute and soft. Pairing: Ashton x GN!Reader (Pretty sure GN but if you catch anything, let me know and I’ll change it to the correct pairing) Word Count: 1.5k

Though nearly six years had passed since your last first date with Ashton, it felt as if nearly no time at all had elapsed as you sat across from him. That last first date, one that also spanned an entire evening, launched a two-year relationship. It found your first love and you felt a sort of deja vu as he easily recounted a new tale from tour.

This Ashton - years older, years wiser - was simultaneously familiar and so very different. He still carried himself with an ease you found comforting, armed with a bright smile and infectious laughter, but there were more layers now. Behind those hazel eyes lingered a deeper understanding of the world, an understanding of life that hadn’t been present at twenty-three and you did nothing to hide the soft smile that lifted the corners of your mouth as he gestured wildly.

“So, did Cal ever realize it was Luke hiding his shoes or does he still think it was Michael?”

Empty coffee cups lingered on the table, long since cleared of your dinner plates, as the restaurant slowly closed around you. Hours had passed, spent lost in conversation - catching up on lost time, listening to the melodic sound of his voice - and you knew you’d have to leave soon.

Still, rather than relaying that thought, you leaned forward with a grin as you waited for his answer.

“Think he realized after a few shows,” Ashton admitted, laughing as he idly wrapped a hand around an empty cup. “Wouldn’t surprise me if he’s waiting to get him back, though. Luke’ll have forgotten all about it by the time Cal attacks.”

“You know, it’s kinda comforting to know that no matter how much things change, some things stay the same.”

Both of you had grown since you last saw one another. Your early twenties were gone, replaced by true adulthood - a career, taxes, responsibilities that sometimes seemed overwhelming - and it was evident in the conversation you’d had. There’d been discussion of family, friends and their marriages and their children; there’d been talk of work, of the inability to recover the way you used to; there’d been a whole tangent about diets and playful complaints at the fact that spicy food grew harder to stomach the older you got.

But knowing that there were still those moments of levity calmed any remaining nerves lingering in the pit of your stomach. Because as different as things were, there was still a glimpse of the Ashton you fell in love with and it made you hopeful that things might be different this time.

Ashton opened his mouth to respond, words on the tip of his tongue, but before he could speak, a soft voice popped through the bubble you’d spent most of the night in.

“Sorry,” she began, politely apologetic. “Just wanted to check in. We’re closing the kitchen so, if you’d like anything else, now is the time. And if not, I’ve got the check.”

The pair of you blinked, both surprised at the time as you spared a glance around the now empty restaurant, before you grimaced apologetically. “Sorry,” Ashton laughed, “didn’t realize how late it was. We’re good.”

“Yeah, we’ll get out of here so you guys can close. Sorry,” you repeated, following suit as Ashton stood from his seat and took the bill.

In a matter of moments, you were standing outside the restaurant, glancing back as the staff turned the sign and began closing up. It reminded you of the past, of nights when you’d close down restaurants just to spend a few extra hours together after he returned from the road, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you headed for the parking lot.

“Guess some things don’t change.” He grinned, eyes bright and glittering in the city lights as he drifted closer to you. His hand bumped yours, body bleeding warmth as tipped his head to glance at you.

“Can’t believe we spent all night sitting there.” It was a quiet observation, whispered into the wind as you wandered slowly down the sidewalk. “Felt like no time at all.”

“It was always like that with us,” he reminded you - as if you’d somehow forgotten just how easy things were for most of your relationship. “Even at the end, we could talk forever and not get tired of one another.”

“I think the accent helped back then.” Ashton rolled his eyes fondly, laughing as his hand brushed yours once more, while you ducked your head. “You’ve always been easy to talk to. You’re kinda captivating, Ash.”

It was true. Ashton had always captured your attention wholly. His voice, warm and honeyed; his way with words, always so thoughtful and intriguing; his general demeanor, easy and bright - everything about him made you want to lose yourself in him and you continued to be reminded of why you’d loved him so fiercely for so long.

“You’re one to talk, sweetheart.”

There was little you could say in response, little your brain seemed to process, so you opted for the next best thing. After a moment’s hesitation, you took Ashton’s hand in your own and laced your fingers together. From the corner of your eye, you saw his grin grow wider - beaming, even in the dim moonlight - and smiled as you drew closer to the car.

The night was coming to an end, as sad as that made you, but you could see more nights like it in your future.

Conversation tapered off into comfortable silence then, neither of you compelled to speak just for the sake of it, and it was yet another reminder of what you’d missed. Things with Ashton had always held a level of ease that no one else had compared to and it was comforting to revel in the quiet, even as you climbed into the car and an old rock song began to play.

As Ashton tapped his fingers along to the song on the radio, you took the opportunity to study him. He sat bathed in the warm glow of streetlights, side profile exactly as you remembered it. There were a few minute changes - his hair had grown a little longer, facial hair covered cheeks that had grown a bit fuller - but you were reminded of why you’d always fawned over him.

There was something magnetic about him, something bright and beautiful that drew you in and kept you tethered in his orbit. He’d always been beautiful, both physically and mentally, and you were grateful for the chance to reconnect.

However, all too soon, you found yourselves parked in the lot of your building and heading up the sidewalk to your door.

“This was nice,” you conceded, smiling as you lingered near your front door. “I missed this.” With only a split second of consideration, brain working on overdrive to rid itself of any doubt, you admitted, “I missed you.”

Ashton, whose cheeks tinted pink beneath the scruff of his facial hair in a way that made your chest ache pleasantly, smiled brightly as he nodded. “I missed you, too.” His agreement was easy, ready, as he took a tentative step closer. “I’m really glad you said yes to tonight. I was afraid you wouldn’t.”

“I never considered anything other than yes.” There’d been no real thought, no other answer you could’ve given him. Though your relationship ended way back when, Ashton had always been the one that got away. Getting a second chance was more than you could’ve asked for. “I’m really glad we bumped into each other.”

It was a moment of serendipity, a coincidence that hadn’t occurred in the years you’d spent apart, and you knew Ashton was just as happy for the chance as he nodded his agreement.

Another step closer, another smile, as Ashton seemed to weigh his words. “I didn’t know if we’d see each other again,” he admitted, voice quiet as he closed the distance between you. “I always wanted to, always thought about reaching out, but I was afraid. I’m glad the universe made the decision for us.”

Ashton lifted his hand, soft and warm as it pressed to your cheek, and leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I want to do this right this time,” he declared, voice soft and washing over you as your eyes fluttered. “I don’t want to rush and fuck it all up again.”

“No one fucked it up last time,” you reminded him, tone matching his as you gripped his bicep softly. “It was just the wrong time. Things are different now, though.”

“Second time’s the charm.” His easy agreement was all you needed to close the small space between you once more, returning your lips to his in another soft kiss.

The second chance was what you both needed, another shot at a love you’d missed so dearly, and you were glad to have gotten it. No matter what happened, you were hopeful that this time, the second time would be the charm.

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Author's Note: I dunno, man. I'm just writing while my brain will let me.

#5sos imagine #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin x you #ashton irwin x reader #5sos imagines #5sos x you #5sos x reader #ashton irwin imagines #ashton irwin fic #5sos fanfic #5sos fics #5sos fluff #v's fics

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ughkat · 7 months

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ughkat's

- ♡︎ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ♡︎ -

(ongoing)

requests: open (requests sent during writing hiatus will be prioritized once i return!)

for now, i will not write:

- dd/lg

- pegging

- 5sos x each other (will do 4/4 x reader)

- cnc

(i have no problem with the listed situations and ideas, i am just not confident in my own writing ability to create a good story using those subjects at this time. i will likely be open to writing more of these story plots in the future. thanks!)

-*-._*.-*._-*-._*.-*._-*-._*.-*._-*-._*.-*._-*-._*.-*._-*-._*.-*.

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒/𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐒

calum:

moody (smut)

mornings (fluff)

attention (smut)

worship (smut)

ifhy (smut/angst)

ashton:

brothers best friend (smut)

portrait (fluff)

luke:

jealous (smut)

fantasy (smut)

brat (smut)

michael:

you're doing so good (fluff)

keep going (smut)

-*-._*.-*._-*-._*.-*._-*-._*.-*._-*-._*.-*._-*-._*.-*._-*-._*.-*.

𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒 / 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒

calum:

boyfriend camera roll

san francisco

ashton:

boyfriend camera roll

luke:

boyfriend camera roll

michael:

boyfriend camera roll

red hair mood board

4/4:

2014 nostalgia

-*-._*.-*._-*-._*.-*._-*-._*.-*._-*-._*.-*._-*-._*.-*._-*-._*.-*.

𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈-𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

calum:

bleach: part 1

crush: part 1 | part 2

luke:

caught: part one | part two

-*-._*.-*._-*-._*.-*._-*-._*.-*._-*-._*.-*._-*-._*.-*._-*-._*.-*.

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takemealivelh · 18 days

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takemealivelh’s masterlist

LUKE

1.what are you doing after this? - 2.is that for me? - 3.she’s friend-zoning you so hard - 4.what are you doing here? - 5.upstairs - 6.what are you saying? - 7.can we talk? 8.we’re not done here yet, okay? 9.what do we do then?

Bruised Knuckles *tw: racism

Don’t hog the blanket

Vinyl Magic

Who would you be today?

1. i bet you look cute *mild smut

sweetheart *smut

are you dating more people?

midnight city pt 1 *smut

you wanna get high? *smut

you want me to fuck you in your car? *smut

don’t do that

send me more pictures *smut

you win some, you lose some *smut

tidal wave *smut

easier to blame

you want a napkin with that? (part one) *smut - you wanna wait till tonight? (part two) *mild sexual content

stay out of trouble *smut

heart is gonna flatline *smut

- Concepts -

fuck me at a quarter to three + choker

MICHAEL

I Can Tell You A Secret

Raspberry Chocolate Milkshake

One Night Stand Pt. 1One Night Stand Pt. 2 One Night Stand Pt. 3 *smut

ASHTON

You’re in Trouble *smut

I think I adore you

You are a gem

I told you not to fall in love with me

Battle of the Bands Pt. 1 Battle of the Bands Pt. 2 *smut

Señorita

that doesn't mean i don't want you *smut

CALUM

Cat’s got your tongue?

Hummingbird

I really need to see you smile right now

- Concepts -

let’s fucking dance

#new masterlist drop !#recent ones are in bold :)#5sos fics #tj's masterlist #luke hemmings fic #luke hemmings smut #michael clifford fic #michael clifford smut #ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin smut #calum hood fic #calum hood smut #masterlist

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bratzforchris · 8 months

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Masterlist

Hello! This is a complied list of all my works for you to enjoy! Please remember that my writing does not reflect 5sos in real life; it is purely fiction 🎀🤍

🌷=fluff

🖇=angst

💋=smut

🧸=age regression

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

Luke Hemmings

I have a separate masterlist of Luke works because I have way more of those than anything else :). That can be found here!

Michael Clifford

🌷 I'll Always Listen

🌷 To the Moon and Back

🌷 You're Beautiful

💋 Streams

💋 Don't Worry Baby

Calum Hood

🧸 My Baby

🌷 Unhappy Halloween

🌷 Five More Minutes

🌷 Marriage

💋 Latin and Pentagrams

🌷 Tour Struggles

💋 Softie

Ashton Irwin

🌷 I'll Take Care of It

🌷 Study Stress

🌷 Feel Better

🌷 Bad Days

🌷 Ours

5 Seconds of Summer

💋 Five Sauce

Lashton

🌷 Brothers

🌷 You'll Be Okay

Muke

🌷 The Dress

🖇 Diagnosis

🌷 Woke Up In Japan

🧸 Luke's Secret

Cake

🧸 Little Lukey

🧸 New Toys

Mashton

🌷 Cupid

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

All works posted here are my original ideas and stories unless otherwise stated. Please do not post elsewhere or copy my work.

Updated: February 13th, 2024

Requests are here <3

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bloodhoundluke · 10 months

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Any recommendations on some good 5sos fics/one shots? I’ve been struggling to find new works that are good.

hi! 🖤

i gotta admit that i haven't been reading a lot of fics lately, but everything @writersdare writes is amazing! i especially love he called her a fairy (luke fic) :)

and i love works by @vailvr and @saucymalum too!! <3 for example i really enjoyed this ash fic by @saucymalum !! and i really liked this luke fic by @thewaywewereinsaigon too <3

if u can't find any fics on tumblr, i suggest you use wattpad or ao3 if you are not familiar with those platforms already. when i actively used wattpad i really enjoyed these luke fics: final round by whiskeyluke, the wedding plan by fangirlsince96, klutz by luvsweetheartluke and enemies flames by whiskeyluke.

i hope this helped ☀️

#my recommendations #5sos fics #whimsy answers

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ghost-of-you · 2 years

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catch 22 Masterlist - ch

regular masterlist

Playlist

Read it on ao3

And I never saw you coming.

Yes, we do, but friends don’t.

I know you're saying you don't wanna hurt me, well maybe you should show a little mercy.

Interlude...

Where did the time go? When did you become someone I used to know?

But then what?

I'll take what I can get from you.

If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy?

You're in the kitchen humming... (Bonus chapter)

#catch22 #im doing it folks #its happening #oh shit #mywriting #calum hood fic #calum hood fanfic #5sos fics #5sos fanfic #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic

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plushyluke · 1 year

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Do you have any recommendations for feminine/Luke in panties fics? I saw your post and wanted to hear your faves :)

hi anon ! ofc i will recommend some fem!luke fics to you ! i only really read lashton ones, so let me know if you are interested in any other pairing. i have a few !

you're the bad boy that i always dreamed of: this one is a high school au, and it is a series written by blackcoffeeandcigarettes on ao3 (2015)

flowers in your hair (boys can't be pretty) : this one is just a classic really. it is one of the earlier fics written about luke being feminine, and it's more slow burn/on the softer side (2015)

into you : migs was the best writer on ao3 for a long time, and i would still consider the into you series the gold standard for all things feminine luke. this is an a/b/o series, and i feel that it is the only a/b/o that really captures the aesthetics perfectly. (2016-2017)

the panty dropper : maybe im a little biased. this was written by @honeyedlashton who is my best friend, buttttt the way that they write feminine luke is actually the exact thing i am looking for. housewife, fembot, bimbo, etc. (2023)

go ahead and read all of @honeyedlashton 's work

every. single. thing. written by twinkylukey.

twitch thot luke is one of her best. need i say more? (2019) as well as some playboy!luke (2018) & sugar baby!luke (2018).

let's be alone together : luke in panties and purple nail polish !! classic (2015).

my kingdom for your graces (and you can worship me too) : another migs classic. absolutely love sugar baby luke fics (2016).

baby came home : this work has been orphaned, but it is probably one of my top 3 fics of all time (2015).

i may have left some out !!

and this is a shameless self plug, but i happen to write lots and lots and lots of feminine luke. i try to write him in every scenario. i write masculine luke on occasion, but my specialty is fem princess or housewife or whatever i'm feeling. you can read about it here.

#swan recs #fanfic recs #swan writes lashton #lashton fanfics #lashton #lashton aus #lashton fic recs #fic recs #5sos #5sos fics #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #calum hood #michael clifford #swans poet society

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let-the-bands-take-c0ntrol · 2 years

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Adore You (Part 3)

AshtonXFemale Reader

Warnings: mainly a bunch of fluff, underage drinking, slight harassment

“I like you. More specifically, I’m attracted to you.” he let the words wash over you for a few seconds before continuing. “If you’ll allow it, I’d like to take you on a proper date off campus.”

“You’re telling me he just said it upfront-no mixed messages?” Lulu questioned. Her voice had raised in volume so that you could hear her over the music.

“Yeah!” you shouted back, head nodding as you glanced into a cup someone placed in your hands.

“And you didn’t respond back to him?!” she said, staring at you in confusion. You bit onto your bottom lip and nodded. “Why not!” she shouted this time, making a few heads turn your way. You sipped at the drink and your face scrunched up at the taste.

“I forgot! By the time I realized I forgot to answer his question, I was already halfway to my dorm room,” you whined, taking a bigger sip of your drink. “This shit is disgusting,” you muttered. Lulu shook her head at you in disappointment, and sipped on her own drink. It wasn’t all bad though because you had found Ashton’s phone number had been slipped into your jacket pocket. It was still in your pocket, and your fingers fiddled with the paper in excitement. You sat the cup down and shook the thoughts of embarrassment from your mind. This exchange had been two days ago, and you had yet to message Ashton.

“Message him tomorrow, right now we’re partying!” Lulu said, pulling you away from the confines of the kitchen and towards the crowd of people in the living room.

“I haven’t messaged him for two days. . .If I wait any longer I might miss my chance,” you shouted as loud as you could over the music. Lulu’s eyebrows furrowed, and she began to bop to the music, trying to weave the both of you through the crowd. You didn’t want to leave Ashton in the dark, and you thought maybe the age difference was what was making you not message him back. Although you did enjoy the small “date” the two of you did go on. “I’m gonna message him,” you decided, shaking your head in frustration and pulling out the paper that held his number. You felt a sudden rush of adrenaline mixed with anxiety. You weren’t sure what to message Ashton. You weren’t even sure if he’d be awake at this hour.

Lulu snatched the phone from your hands, placing the device in her pocket. “No! You need to make him wait. You don’t wanna look desperate,” she shouted, replacing the red solo cup in your hand with a hard seltzer. You pouted at her and took a sip of the drink. Today was the day before spring break started, and after a full day of classes, people wanted to celebrate the start of break with a party. “Only thing that should be on your mind right now is enjoying yourself,” she commented. She was right. You’d be stressing all night about what to message him and miss out on what most people would call the party of a lifetime. Rumor was that the before spring break party happened once every three years. Semi-exclusive and if you received a peach-colored invite then you were considered one of the greats at the college. Neither you nor Lulu got that peach-colored invite, but you were given a secret code on how to enter the party. The last thing you wanted to do was sit around staring at your phone.

“Okay!” you responded, “distract me so I don’t think about it.” A smirk made its way onto her face and she spun you around and pointed at a table where a group of people were gathered around.

“Something I’ve always wanted to play is beer pong. Will you be my partner?” Lulu said, bouncing on her heels in excitement. You rolled your eyes, chugging the hard seltzer in response and then nodding.

“That’s fine, but just so you know my hand-eye coordination is not the best,” you giggled.

---------

Ashton groaned as his phone buzzed for about the eighth time that night. He had been trying to finish one last paper that was due at midnight, but he couldn’t concentrate with his phone going off. An audible sigh left his lips when the buzzing stopped and he pinched at the bridge of his nose in frustration. Ashton had four more pages to write, and unfortunately he was starting to run out of brainpower. The whole week leading up to spring break had been hectic. School paper deadlines, midterms, and not to mention rent was due soon, so he decided to pick up extra hours from his job. To put it shortly, Ashton was burnt out. “Dammit. I need one more source,” Ashton muttered under his breath, pushing away from his desk to grab a book from off the couch. Just as he was beginning to look for one last quote his phone began to buzz again. Only this time it was continuous. A loud groan left Ashton’s lips and he snatched his phone off the desk. The phone number was unfamiliar to him. “Hello?” Ashton snapped into the phone. He internally groaned at the tone of his voice. Whoever was on the line didn’t deserve the frustration he was feeling.

“Ashton, hi!” you squealed loudly into the phone.

“Y/N?” Ashton questioned with furrowed eyebrows. It was really late, especially for you to be calling him.

“Hi!” you shouted once again, making him wince at how loud everything sounded. You began to giggle and kept repeating the greeting.

“Y/N, are you drunk?” Ashton asked, setting his book down.

“May-be. . .yes,” you laughed, “This game of beer pong didn’t have beer.” You began to sing, the noise in the background growing much louder.

“How are you getting home?” Ashton asked, already getting up and grabbing the keys to his car. You had mumbled something about Lulu running off with some person for the night and you didn’t have enough money to call an uber.

“I’ll sleep here,” you concluded. Ashton shook his head and slipped on his shoes.

“No, don’t do that. Where’s here. . .send me your location,” Ashton requested. He wasn’t sure where your friend had gone, and you calling him drunk was somewhat alarming. The last thing he wanted was for you to get hurt. His phone buzzed against his ear and he briefly looked at it to see you had shared your location. “Y/N, listen to me carefully, do not go anywhere,” he instructed.

“Yes, Sir!” you shouted into the phone, giving Ashton a salute he definitely couldn’t see. You had muttered something he couldn’t hear and then hung up. Ashton groaned as he glanced at the time once again. He hoped you had listened to him about staying in one spot.

--------

Ashton pulled up to the house around thirty minutes later. His eyebrows furrowed as he saw the crowd of people entering and exiting what he assumed was a frat house. Ashton didn’t know much about Greek Life on campus, but he had heard tons of stories about their parties and knowing you were somewhere drunk in a sea of people made him extremely concerned. Once finding a park, Ashton found his way inside the party. His nose wrinkled as the stench of alcohol hit his senses. If Ashton wasn’t in the process of trying to finish his paper he would’ve loved to have some alcohol. He began to make his way through the crowd, eyes scanning across people’s faces in search of you. Ashton looked at his phone, but the dot that indicated where you were just stayed stagnant. “Where are you?” he mumbled, following a few people that had gone upstairs.

You groaned in pain, face tucked back into the toilet bowl to throw up everything you had been drinking that night. You grimaced at the inside of the bowl filled with your vomit and the gross ring from multiple uses. Someone stumbled into the bathroom and you turned your head to see who it was. “Oh fuck off,” you sighed, realizing it was the same guy that had been pestering you for most of the night.

“Since you’re already on your knees. . .” he smirked, hand reaching out to stroke your hair.

“Don’t touch me,” you snapped, slapping his hand away, feeling another wave of nausea hit you. Your body shuddered as you emptied the contents in your stomach for the fourth time that night.

“I’m just joking, but seriously why don’t you and I find a room and do some private body shots,” he said, hand landing on your shoulder this time. You were too busy throwing up to even realize. “It’ll relax you,” he whispered, beginning to massage your shoulders.

“Leave me alone,” you said, head resting on the rim of the toilet. Exhaustion was overtaking you and you were beginning to regret the game of “beer” pong you had played. His hands slipped down to your waist and before you could say something you felt his touch quickly leave your body.

“Yo, what the fuck man!” the guy yelled, stumbling back.

“She said leave her alone, don’t you listen?” Ashton calmly said, giving the guy a hard glare. You had perked up at the sound of his voice, and Ashton could visibly see your body relax. “Leave.” he demanded, jerking his head towards the door. The guys mouth opened to say something, but quickly shut when he stood up only to find out he was much shorter than Ashton.

“Didn’t want vomit mouth on my dick anyway,” he said, pushing past Ashton and back into the party. Once the guy was gone, Ashton’s attention was placed on you.

“Hey, are you okay?” Ashton asked, his voice becoming softer. You sat up to look at him with a frown, and shook your head.

“I feel terrible,” you told him.

“You look it,” he laughed, holding out his hand for you to take. “Let’s get you home, yeah?” You nodded in response and grabbed his hand. Ashton pulled you up and into his side. You wrapped arms around his waist, face burrowing into his chest as you hugged him.

“Thank you,” you whispered, allowing his scent to fill your nose. It was soothing and you could almost feel your headache dissipate. Ashton hugged you back and led you out the bathroom. Silence had fallen and you made your way to his car. Ashton opened the car door for you and waited until you buckled in before closing the door. “Ashton?” you timidly said, trying your hardest to fight sleep. He hummed in response, and started the car.

“Can I stay with you?” you asked, head resting on the window. Ashton glanced over to you and a smile made its way onto his face at your request. He wasn’t sure if your roommate was home and leaving you alone while you were drunk made him uneasy. You staying at his place for the night was ideal, at least this way he can keep an eye on you to make sure you didn’t throw up in your sleep.

#5sos #5 Seconds of Summer #Ashton Irwin #5sos blurbs #5 seconds of summer blrubs #Ashton Irwin blurbs #5sos au #5 Seconds of Summer au #Ashton Iwrin au #5sos imagines #5 seconds of summer imagines #Ashton Irwin imagines #5sos fics #5 Seconds of Summer fics #Ashton Irwin fics #5 seconds of summer #fics #5sosimagines

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freshrained · 1 year

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ok but imagine going to a bar with calum and ashton, and ending up losing them and being fine with it. but when you end up finding them the two are so fucking giggly and touchy towards you, and realizing you'll end up taking care of them while their drunk and hungover the next day, and calum being so outspoken because he's so drunk,”so buddy how much did you drink?” and him just kind of laughing it off, not remembering how much he had to drink but ashton speaking up for the dark haired boy as usual, “oh y’know 1 or 2.”

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daycibelle · 2 years

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a visceral feeling. #5SOS5

@5SOS http://5SOS.lnk.to/5SOS5TW

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stxrliasfics · 2 years

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Snuff (lrh oneshot)

Total Word Count: 1,104

Rating: T

Summary:

“𝘛𝘩-𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥,” 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥, 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘱 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵. 𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘶𝘮 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘥-𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳—𝘩𝘪𝘮—𝘢𝘴 𝘔𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰.

Luke just can’t seem to let the love of his life go.

✰ Cross-posted on my ao3 x

✰ Heavily inspired by the music video of 'Snuff' by Slipknot

▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬

It was a night like this he remembered when the chains barricading his heart had broken free for a bright beauty sauntering before him. She had dazzling eyes, soft skin that felt like the pillowy parts of a cloud, and a voice that the birds all stopped their singing to listen to. And Luke fell for all of it. Every piece of her was his heaven, his safe space. She was a goddess that he kneeled to. Such actions left people dreaming of falling into a relationship like theirs. Only, they didn’t know the half of it. Her selfishness was never something that Luke could admit to.

Every trace of her seemed to be left in the flat they had once shared. Dust bunnies took shelter in crevices as a result of him not cleaning up in the past month. In his glassy eyes there held another expression—mangled fury.

He circled the room, taking a look at everything and savoring every bit of her as always. The photos of them together, captured by each other’s love. Now it just seemed like they were wearing mere masks.

Luke’s eyes trailed to an empty wine glass, all lonesome sitting on a table near the window. Dust covered the surface as well. A red smudge of what could have only been lipstick started from the rim of the glass. So faint, yet still there. What seemed like another piece of her. He picked it up and examined it before pressing the rim to his lips as if imagining that he was kissing her. Here. In their flat where no one else could get in the way. No one could interrupt them.

Luke pulled away, his eyes transfixed on the faint smudge that had somehow stayed intact. He gripped it—almost entranced. Every word spurted from those beautiful lips. Even the ones that shamed him. They still seemed beautiful when they came from her lips. How did she do that?

He gripped the wine glass even harder without acknowledgment, teeth gritting. The walls seemed to collapse around him while providing images of the past. A past he knows he can’t get rid of even if he tried. She continued to linger in every place he attempted to sweep away.

His grip tightened and tightened, still staring at the red-painted rim. And in a sudden moment, like his bubbling rage, shards and crimson erupted before him. He cried out and let his agony travel out of the cracks of the flat into the hallway. Paralyzed with dejection and anger, everything else on the table came crashing to the floor in Luke’s destructive path. He clawed at his scalp, the blood dripping in plump droplets down his skin. It was amazing how no one in the building bothered to check in. Somehow the man’s sobs weren’t surprising to any tenants residing there. Could they not hear them? Did they just choose not to hear them? Yeah, let the fucker cry all night. He’ll get over it.

Luke calmed down enough to realize that his hand was wounded and he rushed over to the bathroom down the hall to care for it. He grabbed a small towel from below the counter that held the basin and pressed it down on his wound, wincing. A crimson blotch seeped through the white cloth as he looked into the mirror. Staring back at him was a pale, sweaty, disfigured son of a bitch with no life. A dumb lowlife who let some bitch in red pumps stomp all over him and stand him up like an idiot. No, she wasn’t a bitch. She was my everything. But how could he have been so stupid? Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid! She didn’t really love you! The palm of his terribly bandaged hand repeatedly struck his forehead. The white cloth fell into the sink and blood stained the wet blonde strands covering his eyes. He took another good look in the mirror, wanting so badly to smash it into pieces because of the waste of a man staring back at him—only he had a good mind not to.

Instead, like always, he curled up into the neat bed without pulling back the covers and forced himself into the void of slumber.

***

It was her never fading light of joy that made men lunge after her. Long blonde waves fell off of her shoulders in the faintest of ways and she wore a skin-tight black dress that hugged every curve of her body. Everything that she did seemed so fragile. From the way she put on her lipstick to the way she hugged her puppy when saying goodbye. She was fragile. However, a festering laceration prevented her from doing too much of these things. It seems as if we all have infected wounds that never truly heal. They grow and fester with parasites and we’re left with them until we die. And death had taken place, but she was still stuck with the remains of the other.

She slipped her red pumps on whilst wincing, noticing from the corner of her eye a figure in the doorway of her bedroom. Smoothing out her dress and careful not to touch the hurt area, she stood up in front of the mirror that was positioned at the foot of her bed. Her hands traveled up her figure and touched every part as a means of checking herself out. And the man in the doorway, Calum, watched with a somewhat sickened expression.

“Th-This is getting out of hand,” he had said, still watching. She did not turn to meet him until she grabbed her purse which lay on the bed, its strap sprawled out. Calum caught sight of the shadowy look on her eyelids and her red-painted lips. He had absolutely no intentions of humoring her—him—as Michael had instructed him to. What good would it do to stoop down to his level? “You’ve got to stop this. You need help, Luke.”

Upon hearing that, icy blue eyes glared up with such a piercing gaze. Bitter. Ones that were unable to swallow the hard truth that came knocking on the door. Yet, it was replaced immediately—horrifyingly—with that sweet, innocent gaze that she gave to everyone. Fragile.

“I don’t know what you mean, Cal,” she said in a voice that only made the man’s stomach churn in horror. “Maybe you should go lie down.”

And nothing else was left in that flat but a worried, trembling Calum and the misery that never seemed to go away. She had sauntered off down the hall leaving it all behind.

#5sos #5sos fics #luke hemmings #fanfic writing #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #writing #oneshot #5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings angst #fan fiction

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morningfears · 7 months

Text

Dark Cloud

Rating: PG

Summary: Ashton is there in a difficult time. (AKA my dad passed a few weeks ago and it's been difficult to understand my emotions so I'm doing what I do best and write about it) Warnings: Death of a parent, bad relationship with parents, abusive parent, self-deprecation, general anxiety, grief, feelings, etc. (Anything else and I'll tag it.) Pairing: Ashton x GN!Reader (Pretty sure GN but if you catch anything, let me know and I'll change it to the correct pairing) Word Count: 3k (not much has changed, honestly)

Though Ashton was not known for his prolonged silence, he had moments of relative quiet.

There were moments of quiet reflection, peaceful bouts of silence where he ruminated on the things he’d accomplished - the things he grew prouder of with each passing day, the things he had yet to achieve but knew were within his reach. There were moments of bliss, comfortable stretches of time where no words were needed as you allowed yourselves to disappear into your own little world, surrounded by love and light. There were moments of discontent, seconds that felt like hours passing in an uncomfortable lull that only amplified the insecurities or worries or sorrows either of you felt.

Some of those moments stretched on endlessly; the blissful quiet and the peaceful contentment. Others never lingered very long and grew fewer and farther in between the longer you spent together. But as you sat in a deckchair almost as old as you in a backyard you’d spent a different lifetime in, one of those moments you hoped would disappear just as quickly as it began enveloped you.

This moment was not one driven by any need of his. There was no rumination on his life, no bliss or discontent. There was no worry about the future or grief for the past. This moment was one he held entirely for you.

Three days had been spent in a heavy hush, a silence that pressed on your chest and left Ashton quieter than you’d ever seen him. He’d been rendered speechless after a quiet midnight phone call from your mother and chose his words carefully in the days leading up to the moment you found yourself desperate to run from.

Though his presence gave you comfort, eased some of the ache in your chest and made the tingling in the tips of your fingers more bearable, his silence only made the overwhelming noise of your thoughts that much harder to withstand.

Unlike nearly everyone that surrounded you, Ashton knew you well. He knew that you’d spent the three days struggling to rationalize feelings that were complicated at best. He knew when you needed guided, when you needed him to ask questions and help cataloguing what you felt. He knew when you needed him to distract you, offering stories from the road to pull you away from the heaviness at hand. But, most important of all, he knew when you needed space.

The moment that enveloped you, the quiet he’d given you in the three days since receiving that phone call, was meant to be comforting. It was meant to give you space to decompress, space to be uncertain, and you appreciated the thought behind it. You were grateful he wasn’t pushing, grateful he hadn’t joined your mother or other well-meaning friends and family members asking how you were doing, but you’d grown tired of the quiet as the still of the backyard surrounded you.

Orange light from the setting sun lit the world aflame and burned nearly as warm as the flurry of emotion churning in the pit of your stomach. It was difficult to catalogue what exactly you felt - mentally, physically; all of it blurred together in one overwhelming ache - and you weren’t quite sure how to articulate that.

Very little about the few days you’d experienced made sense, least of all your emotions, but you knew that if anyone could string together meaning from you stream of consciousness, it would be Ashton.

With a sigh, you slumped deeper into your chair and blinked back the sting of tears threatening to fall.

Every single person you’d interacted with for the better part of two days began every conversation with a barrage of questions; how are you? How are you feeling? What can I do? They all declared how tough it must be, some even claimed to understand exactly what you were feeling. It must be so hard, they cooed, before promising they were there if you needed them.

It was all superficial, at best, but you took the question as a base to begin a conversation you’d been dreading.

“I’m fine, Ash.” There was little chance he didn’t notice the quiver in your voice, even less of a chance he didn’t notice the clench of your jaw and the heavy exhale you released, but he nodded, just the same.

“I believe you.”

Ashton knew that you weren’t fine - not really, not entirely - but he also knew that what you were feeling was more complicated than grief.

Losing a parent was always going to be a difficult experience but losing a parent you’d gone no contact with for reasons out of your control only complicated things.There was no easy explanation for the multitude of emotions clouding your brain and he understood that. Ashton understood complicated relationships with parents just as he understood how difficult it was to grieve someone long before they died.

Everything you felt, every complicated emotion and messy blur of feelings, you knew he would understand. Regardless, it still felt nearly impossible to articulate as you blinked against the sun’s harsh glow.

Few others had seen the toll your mother’s misguided attempts at encouraging a reconciliation between you and your father had taken. It was well-intentioned, you were sure, but ended in an anxiety you hadn’t felt since your teenage years.

From the safety of your shared home, Ashton had witnessed a handful of tense phone conversations. He’d listened as your father threw insults thinly disguised as questions or compliments and belittled you in ways that made his blood boil. He’d watched as you slumped on the couch and gave one-word answers as you willed the conversations to be over. He’d held you after as angry tears tracked down your cheeks and you wondered just what you’d done to deserve this kind of treatment from someone who was supposed to love you.

It made sense, then, why he’d remained so quiet at your side. And instead of pressing for an answer, asking questions that would only make the process harder for you, he waited. He sat quietly, hazel eyes flickering between you and the trees in the distance as he waited for you to gather your thoughts.

“None of this is for me.”

The declaration felt bitter, dripping acid as it fell from your lips, but it was honest in a way you couldn’t be with anyone else. No one else understood, no one else saw you - really, truly, completely saw you - in the way that Ashton did. Though you felt overwhelmed, anxious and upset, you felt hopeful that he’d get it.

“Funerals are… hard,” you settled on, blinking hard against the tears you willed away. “They’re supposed to be for people you love, people that meant something to you. They’re supposed to give you closure. It’s a final send-off, something that just… marks the end, I guess. You mourn someone that meant something to you but all he was to me was a nightmare. I didn’t lose my dad on Sunday. I lost him when I was old enough to realize what kind of person he was.”

Anger, heavy and encompassing, made it easier for you barrel through the feelings you’d been bottling up. And Ashton, who had been waiting for the storm, sighed. It was heavy with an emotion neither of you intended to explore in that moment but accompanied by him reaching out to take your hand in his own. The weight of it, the heat of his palm pressed to yours, tethered you to the moment. A gentle squeeze helped you remain present as you swallowed the emotion clumping in your throat.

“Everyone here thinks I’m the problem. They think I just up and abandoned my dad. They think I’m a bad person because I haven’t had a relationship with him in over a decade but no one asks why. No one asks what happened to make me leave home and not come back. No one asks why I went nearly fifteen years without speaking to him. No one puts any of the blame on him. No one asks why I went nearly fifteen years without speaking to him. They just asks why I didn’t try harder. But why was it my reasonability? I’m the child here. He was supposed to be my dad. He was supposed to care, to love me, to make me a priority. I was supposed to be important to him but he made my life a living hell. He made me believe no one would ever love me. He made me believe I was worthless. He was a miserable, abusive, narcissistic, son of a bitch but no one acknowledges any of that.”

Breathing grew more difficult with every word you spoke. The weight of every emotion you’d felt in relation to your father pressed on your chest, leaving a dull ache between your ribs as you took a moment to grit your teeth.

Ashton knew what happened. The beginning of your relationship had proven difficult because of it. He had his own issues - his own insecurities and traumas to work through - and had taken yours in stride. But he’d also been instrumental in encouraging you to find yourself. Therapy, both individual and couple’s, was something he’d inspired you to take on and you could see the hurt in his eyes as you felt yourself falling back into an old way of thinking.

However, it seemed that no mater how hard you tried - no matter how much progress you’d made, you felt yourself spiraling as you struggled to come to terms with what you were feeling.

“He told everyone how proud he was of me, that I lived in California and had a good life. But he didn’t know anything about me. He had no idea what I do for work. He didn’t know your name, he didn’t even know we were engaged. He didn’t know anything but he had everyone convinced I was the problem. And I just… it’s not fair. Why did he get to have friends and so many people to defend him? Why did he get to spend his life existing, happy, when I spent years wondering if anyone would ever be able to love me?”

Ashton squeezed your hand gently and you could feel the weight of that single gesture, of his warm gaze burning into the side of your face, but you knew that sparing him a glance would only end with you dissolving into tears. You were on a roll, speaking the thoughts you knew made little sense but had been plaguing you since you received your mother’s phone call, and stopping didn’t feel like an option.

“Sometimes, I wonder if all of this was my fault.” The admission was quiet, your voice dropping to a near whisper and thick with emotion as you laughed quietly, self-deprecatingly. “I remember being so happy when I was little. I remember going out and doing stuff, getting dinner and seeing movies and going to the roller rink. I remember feeling loved. I remember him coming to my softball games and my spelling bees. But then I also remember being ten and wondering if everyone had a dad who yelled at them and threw things at them and made them cry. And I don’t know if I just got older and he got meaner or if I, I don’t know, gained consciousness and realized he was always mean.”

Faint sounds of life began to bleed into the backyard - the noise of your mother and step-father and various family members who’d dropped by with food and well-wishes milling about - but you ignored them all as you inhaled a shaking breath.

“My mom doesn’t remember it but we had an argument when I was, like, fourteen. I have no clue what it was about but I remember her saying that I was more and more like my dad every day. Nothing anyone has ever said to me has hurt that bad. I think about her saying that all the time and I try so hard to prove that it’s not true but it feels like no matter what I do, no matter how hard I work to be a good person, I keep seeing more and more of my dad in myself.”

With another harsh breath, this one a desperate attempt to clear your throat of the emotion threatening to choke you, you wiped harshly at the tears that had started falling. Somewhere in the midst of your inner turmoil, there was an anger that you allowed yourself to cry. None of this was worth your anger, your sadness, your energy, but it felt impossible to do anything more than continue spouting a stream of consciousness that you only hoped Ashton could follow.

“While you were on tour, I went to the bar with some friends after a bad day. I wasn’t really in the mood but I ended up having fun,” you admitted, shrugging lightly as you dropped your gaze to where your intertwined hands rested on your thigh. “At the end of the night, though, it was just me and Blake on the patio and we were talking about all the stupid shit that was happening at work. I made a joke about trying to be more positive and he laughed. He said it was no use because I’ve always been a ‘dark fucking cloud’ and that was just who I was. It was a joke,” you conceded, lifting your hand to trace a nonsensical pattern across the back of Ashton’s hand. “But it really was’t. He’s right. I’ve always been a dark cloud and I’ve always been miserable and bitter and angry.”

A quiet laugh, devoid of any humor and sounding just as defeated as you felt, escaped as you shook your head. “All the worst parts of me, all the things I wish I could change, all the things I know make it difficult for people to like me, let alone love me, are parts of my dad. And I just wonder, what happens if I can’t fix those parts? What happens if I spend the rest of my life as this dark cloud? What happens if one day, all my friends realize how miserable I make them? What happens if, one day, you realize that you could do better? You’re such a bright light, Ash, and you could so easily find someone who loves you that’s bright and happy and warm and matches your energy. I worry that I’m going to die alone and miserable and forgotten, just because I’m me; this dark fucking cloud that pushed everyone away.”

Ashton allowed the silence to linger for just a moment, giving you a second to catch your breath and decide you were finished speaking, before reaching out to carefully brush away the tears tracking down your cheeks. From the corner of your eye, you caught the look on his face - a deep sadness you’d never seen from him before, complete with shiny eyes and a frown - and felt a fresh wave of tears stinging at your eyes.

Though you tried blinking them away, Ashton shook his head. “Oh, honey.” He slid his chair a touch closer, his knee knocking into yours as he lifted his free hand to your cheek. “I wish I knew what to say to make you feel better,” he began, quiet but as serious as you’d ever heard him. “I don’t, but I can tell you what I do know.” With gentle fingers, Ashton tilted your head to meet his eyes and, despite the urge to glance away, you held his gaze.

“You are not a dark cloud.” His conviction was clear, certain and strong as he searched your face. “Even when you don’t want to, you try to see the best in people. It doesn’t matter how bad your day is, you always try to encourage the people in your life. You’re the most supportive person I’ve ever met. Anyone who asks you to show up for them, you’re there and cheering the loudest. You push people to be the best versions of themselves. When I’m in my head, you’re the person to bring me back. Despite everything, you’re a good person. You try so hard and everyone can see it. You’re not difficult to like and you’re really not difficult to love. You match my energy, you make me happy, and I’m lucky I get the chance to love you.”

With another gentle squeeze to your hand, Ashton sighed. “None of this is your fault. You were a kid, honey,” he reminded you, careful to avoid irritating your skin further as he brushed away the few tears that continued to fall. “I know all of this is hard. I know you loved him when you were a kid. I know it still hurts, even though he hasn’t been in your life and he hurt you so bad. And I know none of it makes any sense. I can’t tell you not to worry about any of this but I can promise that I’ll be here to remind you of just who you are. I’ll be here to remind you just how loved you are. You’re a good person, honey, and I do love you. On the good days, on the bad days, on every other day; I love you and I’m not the only one. You mean so much to so many people.”

As the tears fell faster, Ashton stood from his seat and tugged you up after him. He pulled you into an embrace, arms wrapped tightly around your body, and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head. He allowed you to squeeze him tight, body pressed close to his, and hummed soothingly as he waited for you to calm.

“I love you,” he whispered, voice carrying through the still of the night as he shifted to meet your eyes once more.

“Thank you.” With another soft squeeze to Ashton’s middle, you nodded. “I love you, too.”

“Alright, what d’you want to eat? You haven’t eaten anything all day. And if you tell me you’re not hungry, I’m calling Michael and letting him explain Rocket League, in detail,” he teased, waiting to see if his joke would earn him a smile.

“You decide,” you offered, smiling lightly as you nodded. “I don’t want to make any decisions. I’ll have whatever you get.”

“Okay,” he relented, appeased by the agreement as he wrapped an arm around your waist and began guiding you back to the house. “C’mon, we’ll get you some water and figure it out.”

There was no resolution, no easy answer for the messy feelings you still felt roiling in the pit of your stomach, but you felt a little more at peace. It wouldn’t be a straightforward path, not one you’d be able to navigate easily, but you felt hopeful that you could see a rainbow through the dark clouds with Ashton by your side.

______________________________________________________

Author's Note: Honestly, I wasn't sure I should post. But I realized this blog has been here for me in some of my worst moments. Best of times, worst of times, I've written. For 5sos, here on this blog. So, here it is. September was a difficult month. It started beautifully with my 5sos show but got worse. But I'm still grateful for the opportunity to have seen the boys. I do have a fluffy Ash fic I'm working on. Funny how I always return to them when things get rough. Anyway, hope y'all are well!

#5sos imagines #5sos imagine #ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin imagines #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin x you #5sos x you #5sos x reader #5sos fics #v’s fics

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ughkat · 7 months

Text

portrait | ashton irwin

requested

you and ashton have a picnic in the park. bringing your art supplies along with you, you decide to try and paint him and end up making a mess.

ashton x artist!reader

fluffy soft blurb

"Stay still." I giggled, peeking behind my canvas at the shifting boy in front of me. Ashton let out a chuckle as he reached for a strawberry on our arrangement of snacks beside us, quickly returning to position. I looked at his features closely, then back to my canvas, mixing colors carefully to perfect the shade of his hazel eyes. My eyebrows furrowed as I focused intensely on the portrait before me.

"You're so cute when you focus." He mumbled with smile, still eating the strawberry he grabbed. I peeked around my canvas again and glared at Ashton sarcastically. Our picnic was just perfect, we were surrounded by freshly cut green grass and oak trees, the grass topped with blossoming flowers of various species, releasing a calming scent to the air. The slow breeze mixed with the shining sun hit Ashton so beautifully, almost distracting me from my painting.

We arranged a generously sized blanket, along with various snacks, foods and beverages. I packed my art supplies with me, for Ashton told me he wanted to paint— which ended in me painting him instead. I obliged, for if I were given any reason to stare at and study him for any elongated period of time, I always took it. Though, his beauty was something a brush and a canvas was unable to recreate.

"Is it almost ready?" He tilted his head, doing his best to not sound impatient. I let out a small chuckle at his eagerness, glancing at him over my canvas.

"Not yet, be patient." I spoke softly, reaching to take a sip from my drink. As I closely inspected his finishing features, copying them onto my almost ready portrait, I glanced back up a final time to take a good look at my model.

He watched the scenery around us calmly, his soothing presence was like peaceful ocean waves

I added my final stroke to the canvas, beckoning Ashton to look my direction.

"Ready?" I chirped. He nodded with excitement, perking up in his criss cross position. I slowly turned the canvas, watching Ashton's face light up with a cheerful smile. He let out a giggle before moving the canvas closer to him.

"I love it, Y/n." He cheered, inspecting my work closely, "You never fail to amaze me with my own portraits, love.". He carefully scooted my canvas to the side, leaning in for a gentle kiss. Without me noticing, Ashton ran his index finger into a dollop of my paint, brushing it over my nose while my eyes were still closed and our lips were still connected. I let out a small gasp, dropping my jaw. He widened his eyes with a smug smile, knowing this was about to get messy. I quickly reciprocated the action with a giggle, rubbing a bright blue paint across his cheek. His reaction similar to mine, he pounced over me, supporting himself with his arms. He reached down and swiped a larger glob of paint, sliding it slowly across my cheek.

"Ash!" I exclaimed with a laugh, the leftover paint falling onto my shirt. Ashton wiped his hand onto his pants, leaning down for another kiss. I melted under his lips, our mouths dancing together in passionate rhythm. The paint on our faces mixed together and our kiss deepened, creating a series of new colors on our skin.

Our blanket, now covered in paint as well, wrinkled under our bodies as Ashton slowly brought his hand to my cheek, continuing our intimate make out.

He pulled away slowly, looking into my eyes adoringly.

"You're so beautiful." He spoke softly, using his thumb to wipe some paint from my cheek. I smiled back at him, then turned away, blushing.

"We made a big mess." I giggled softly, looking around at our paint covered blanket and clothes.

Ashton let out a chuckle.

"Let's make a bigger one."

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