#Ash keeps running into old friends who congratulate him on his win and otherwise just carry on as if the World Championship isn't a big dea | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

haloshornsinkstains · 3 years

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Other Side [Songfic, slight Dabi x F!Reader]

While I’m working on Kinktober stuff and my head is a mess, here have a songfic that wouldn’t leave my damn brain for the past few weeks after I saw an animatic based on this song (The Other Side from The Greatest Showman). It just works? Also, apologies on the quirk, I was rewatching Bungou Stray Dogs and <3

CW: Female reader, alcohol, swearing, mention of unwanted groping, Endeavour is a dick... otherwise, pretty SFW

You groaned, pressing your head against the bar and gesturing to the bartender for your usual. Hearing the glass set down beside you, you looked up and smiled, taking a long drink. “Thanks Ryu.” The bartender smiled sympathetically. “Boss still a dick?” “The biggest flaming dick in Japan.” You grumbled. “They’re still keeping me on office duty. I break one creeps jaw and they trap me inside. Mirko punched a reporter and she’s still a top hero.” “Hey, it could be worse. You could be not working under the number one hero.” “No, that makes it worse.” Ryu frowned. “How?” “I hate him. I always hated him.” “Then why don’t you just leave and work for someone else.” You scowled at your glass, left hand leaving dents in the wood of the bar where it rested. “Not allowed.” “Bullshit. And stop denting my bar.” “Truth. Believe me, I’d leave if I could. But I can’t.” You sighed, lifting your hand from the wood apologetically. “Sorry Ryu. If I left I wouldn’t get to be a hero any more, even if all I do is paperwork I worked my ass off for this.” Ryu shrugged, spotting another customer signalling him out of the corner of his eye and smiling apologetically. “Sucks I guess. I’ve got people to serve, shout if you want a top up.” “Believe me, I will.”

You heard a glass set down next to you, the unmistakable heat of a body taking up the seat to your right. "Hey there princess." The voice was gravelly but so familiar. "Nope. I've had more than enough Todoroki bullshit for one day." You growled, staring daggers at your drink. "Sorry, you must be mistaking me for someone else." You turned, narrowing your eyes at the man sat next to you. "Dabi. You remember I've known you way too long to fall for your bullshit right? And I am so not in the mood." Dabi went to lift his glass, only to find it stuck to the bar, your skin giving off a faint red glow. "Come on princess, I only want to talk. We can bitch about that asshole like old times." You sagged a little, the glow fading and his glass suddenly much easier to lift. You knew he wanted more than to just talk, Dabi's talks always came with attempts to recruit you into the league or, if he was drunk or high enough on adrenaline, his bed. But he was an old friend, and one of the few people more than happy to join your Fuck Endeavour and Fuck The Hero Commission rants. Shaking your head you gestured to one of the darker tables in the back, this might have been a very shady bar but Dabi was well known enough now that even here someone might be dumb enough to try to call the pros. And you liked this place too much to see it turned to ash.

You both settled into your seats in the back, you nursing your whiskey with a frown. "So what did dear old dad do today?" "Existed?" You huffed. "Bitched me out for not downplaying the damage caused in one of his 'rescues' while I was writing his reports for him. Which turned into more general belittlement of my attitude, abilities as a hero, quirk… basically he covered all the bases." "You know they'll never let you leave there right? You'll be doing paperwork until you die." Dabi drawled, you glared at him. "They're keeping you there because you're too dangerous to them, you know too much and you were caught sympathising with a villain. He hates you, he won't hesitate to put you down at the first sign of defection. You're trapped." "I didn't sympathise with a villain. I just didn't disagree with all of his ideas regarding the behaviour of heroes. I didn't exactly agree with his methods, I liked Ingenium plenty thank you very much." You grumbled, swirling the amber liquid in your glass. “He was friendly, and fun.” "Still… you hit like a truck when we were kids, I'd love to see what damage you can do now." He hummed, eyes flashing bright for a second. "You could be very dangerous. So they lock you up in an office doing filing for a man that hates you like a good little minion." "You're alarmingly eloquent today." You took another sip, setting the glass down and closing your eyes with a deep sigh. "I worked my ass off to be a hero, why would I want to throw that away?" "Oh, so you enjoy being his little secretary?" Your eyes flashed, skin glowing red as his chair creaked under the sudden strain of the gravity increase. Dabi just smirked, that stupid smug look that told you he knew he'd won. "Just listen to my proposal?" You sighed, the oppressive pressure dissipating in an instant as you waved at him to continue. Maybe he'd put a new twist in the spiel this time.

"Right here, right now I put the offer out I don't want to chase you down I know you see it" “We do this on a near weekly basis, you have quite literally stalked me to this bar, if that’s not chasing me down what is?” You scoffed and shook your head, eyes flicking to the bar while you debated how many more drinks you were going to need after this. "You run with me And I can cut you free Out of the drudgery and walls you keep in So trade that typical for something colorful And if it's crazy, live a little crazy" "Well at least you acknowledge your league is entirely batshit." "You can play it sensible, a king of conventional" "Conventional? Really? I'm wounded." "Or you can risk it all and see Don't you wanna get away from the same old part you gotta play 'Cause I got what you need, so come with me and take the ride It'll take you to the other side 'Cause you can do like you do Or you can do like me Stay in the cage, or you'll finally take the key Oh, damn! Suddenly you're free to fly" You drummed your fingers on the table, honestly the bird metaphors were a bit weird but he was starting to sound like he had a point, which was…. Alarming. You needed to shut this down fast or you’d break.

"Okay, my friend, you want to cut me in Well I hate to tell you, but it just won't happen So thanks, but no I think I'm good to go 'Cause I quite enjoy the life you say I'm trapped in" Dabi scoffed. "Really? Didn't sound like it five minutes ago." You shot him a glare. "Now I admire you, and that whole show you do You're onto something, really it's something Don't you know that I'm okay with this uptown part I get to play 'Cause I got what I need and I don't want to take the ride I don't need to see the other side So go and do like you do I'm good to do like me Ain't in a cage, so I don't need to take the key Oh, damn! Can't you see I'm doing fine I don't need to see the other side"

Dabi laughed, gesturing at the dingy bar and the glass in your hands with possibly the most judgemental look on his face you’d seen in years. "Now is this really how you like to spend your days? Whiskey and misery, and parties and plays"

You sighed again, but your shoulders were sagging now and he knew he was winning. You couldn't pretend you enjoyed this any more, restrictions and abuse breaking you down into someone much easier to tempt and mould. "If I were mixed up with you, I'd be the talk of the town Disgraced and disowned, another one of the clowns" You huffed, waving a hand vaguely in his direction.

"But you would finally live a little, finally laugh a little Just let me give you the freedom to dream And it'll wake you up and cure your aching Take your walls and start 'em breaking Now that's a deal that seems worth taking But I guess I'll leave that up to you" He stood to leave only to find the gravity of your quirk forcing him back down. He knew then that he had won, they'd turned a hero. Shigiraki might take some convincing but that didn't matter right now. Your resolve was crumbling.

"Well it's intriguing, but to go would cost me greatly So what's in it for me?" "Freedom. You want to punch the next guy who touches you inappropriately through a building? The League won't question you for a second, and there's no paperwork." You shook your head. "You'll have to raise the price a bit more than that." "Its a big fuck you to Endeavour?" "That was weak even for you. Dick has hated me since I was, what, five? All I’m doing is giving him an excuse to come after me. He'll be after my head as soon as I leave, and as much as I’m loathe to admit it we both know he's powerful." "You get to spend all the time you want with your favourite childhood friend…" his smirk turned wicked and knowing. "No one to stop you, no questions, no hiding in the corner of a dingy bar. And I guess Shigaraki is okay.” "You play dirty, you know that right?" "Well, I am a villain." Rolling your eyes you knocked back the last of your whiskey and stood, holding out a hand to him. "Well, guess I'm pissed off enough not to care any more. Congratulations Touya, you win." Grinning Dabi took your hand, ignoring the use of his old name in favour of pulling you in for a hug. “Oh, you’re going to be amazing Princess.” “I’ve always been amazing.” You chuckled. “Take me to your leader before I change my mind.” Dabi grinned. “As you wish.” “And no burning down my favourite bar!”

The pair of you stepped outside, Dabi sending a quick message on his phone that was shortly followed by the appearance of a swirling black void. "No wonder I've never seen you on the subway." You joked, though your fingers tightened anxiously around his. "Time to move up in the world princess." He chuckled, tugging you forwards into the void. "You know I don't like...holy shit." You stepped out into a different dingy bar, several faces snapping up to look at you as you appeared. Dabi was a comforting presence at your back. “No more corners of dingy bars huh?” You murmured, shooting him a sideways glance. "Hey Dabi, what's with the midget?" You bristled. "I am not a…" "Shit, that's a pro!" The villain speaking launched at you, intent to kill flashing hot in his eyes. Already irritated and more than a little on edge you activated your quirk, watching him fall flat on his face as overwhelming gravity pulled him down. Dabi had crumpled to his knees behind you, the others struggling to move. "Princess." You just growled. "She's with me, with us." Dabi continued. "Princess?" With a huff you released your quirk, watching warily as the villain who'd gone to attack you pushed himself to his feet. Dabi's hand on your shoulder made you flinch but his grip was strong, somewhere between restraint and support in case wide scale use of your quirk had taken it out of you. It was hard not to appreciate the gesture, even if you felt fine. "Meet Graviton. She's… an old friend." "I didn't know you could make friends." Your head snapped around at the sound of the voice, focusing in on Shigaraki sat at the bar, watching you from between the fingers of the hand on his face. "I've got more than you creep." Dabi snapped back, fingers digging into your shoulder. You tipped your head back a little, raising an eyebrow at him. Shigaraki scratched at his neck, eyes never leaving you. "Why is she even here? She could be a double agent." You couldn't hold back the laugh that bubbled out at that. "Hah, no." "Why are you here?" You were glad for the dim lighting, the constant attention making a blush rise on your cheeks. "I had a really bad week, and Dabi asked nicely. Even said please." As much as you tried to be nonchalant you couldn't hide the slight tremble in your voice. Shigaraki scoffed and you finally looked away from him. "I'm sick of being stuck doing paperwork because the Heroes say so. I worked hard to get my license only to be told I'm not allowed to do anything except sit in a cage with someone I hate. Guess I finally had enough. I was told you'll let me use my power." "And she really wants to punch Endeavour in the face." Dabi added cheerfully. "Oh yeah, that too." "I trust her, and you should know by now I don't drag in just anyone." "Shigaraki, she could be useful. She has inside information and that power was impressive." The black void behind the bar spoke, startling you a little and pulling a quiet chuckle from Dabi. "Fine. Make yourself useful, if you try to betray us I'll kill you." Shigaraki huffed, standing from his seat. "Kurogiri, I'm going back to my room." "Welcome to the League [name]."

#my writing #songfic #f!reader #dabi #dabi x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #halo.writes

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calpalirwin · 4 years

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Mixtapes

Summary: You were just a seventeen year old girl with an incredible knack for learning when you crashed into Ashton Irwin. It was hard for him not to fall for a girl who was as phenomenal as you were and it was hard for you not to fall for a man who thought you were so much more than a girl four and half years his junior. Maybe age really was just a number. After all, you wouldn’t be seventeen forever.

A/N: @carebearofriddles shared this lovely idea with me, so I’ve been happily bringing this to life (she has the BEST ideas y’all!). It’s a longer blurb, but I hope you’ll enjoy reading it all the same.

And away, and away we go!

~~~

“Focus, Y/N,” your coach told you from behind the batting cage. “Breathe in, out, swing. You got this.”

You nodded your head, your cleats digging into the dirt as you adjusted your feet ever so slightly. Your loosened and tightened your grip on your bat, looking for that sweet spot. Your gaze shifted to the scout manning the pitching machine. This is it, Y/N, don’t blow it. You took in a slow breathe. “Pitch,” you instructed. You let out your breath as the ball came flying at you. Muscle memory took over as your bat left your shoulder, your body pivoted, and the ball clanged off your bat and soared into the back off the batting cage, rattling the fence when it stuck.

“Dang,” the scout whistled. “How old are you, again?”

“17,” you beamed proudly.

“Welcome to the USA Olympic Softball team, Y/N. We’re happy to have you.”

~~~

You couldn’t stop grinning. You had been playing softball since you were old enough to swing a bat. You were graduating high school next month- a year early- and were already accepted to your local state university to their psychology program and their softball team. And now, you’d be training to go play in the summer Olympics next year. Life, you decided, was pretty damn sweet.

To channel the euphoric emotions coursing through you, after a shower and change of clothes, you set out to create a musical piece.

It wasn’t much, as you never put lyrics in your pieces, choosing to let the music speak for itself in it’s raw and unaltered form. You had been playing instruments almost as long as you had been playing softball. Piano you had picked up first, courtesy of a Christmas gift for piano lessons. Drums you had learned shortly after, when you got caught pounding on your older brother’s kit and instead of pounding you, he taught you. Bass had been a recent acquisition, this time thanks to your softball coach who took an interest in your interests off the field.

Your apparent genius had a name: Savant Syndrome. And while it earned you more than your fair share of stares and whispers, you were humble. While your ability certainly gave you an edge, no one could deny how hard you worked to be at the top of your game. Gifted or not, you worked just as hard, if not harder, than anybody else. And it was paying off in ways you had only dreamed about.

~~~

Your announcement of punching your ticket to the Olympics quickly threw you into the spotlight.

“So, Y/N, you are 17, is that correct?” the interviewer asked you.

You nodded. “Yes.”

“And you’re starting at your local university here in a few months, yes?”

Again, you nodded. “Yeah, I graduated high school back in June, so I’ll be attending the local university here in another month.”

“Congratulations. What will you be studying?”

“Psychology.”

“And is it safe to assume you’ll be playing softball?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“So, Y/N. You’re a 17 year old girl. What do you do when you’re not playing softball? Mall with your friends? Dating?”

You laughed. “Yeah, I hang out with my friends. But, in my spare time, I like to make music.”

“So, no boyfriend, then?”

You laughed again, not sure what else to do. Was this going to be your life? Dodging questions about your dating life, or lack thereof? “I’m a little busy for that. The music keeps me pretty busy.”

“Music? I thought you played softball?”

You held back an eye roll. Did interviewers even listen if it wasn’t the answer they wanted to hear? “I do a lot more than just play softball,” you answered, getting a little annoyed now.

“Like what?”

You were going to scream. Instead, you forced a smile. “I make music. I study for classes. I hang out with my family and friends. I just keep my head down and keep busy.”

~~~

“That was such bullshit,” you growled at your coach after the interview was over.

“I know, Y/N, but you did great. You kept a cool head.”

“Is that what I have to look forward to? Questions about boys and dating?”

“You’re a pretty teenage girl, Y/N. So, unfortunately yes.”

“That’s bullshit…”

“I know. Go channel it.”

So you did, in the form of a drum heavy, pissed off, 8 minute rant.

~~~

“Oh, my bad!” you apologized as you stopped in your tracks, after almost colliding with the tall man in front of you. You looked up and your eyes locked on a hazel gaze underneath a cloud of long brown curls. You knew exactly who this was. “Holy shit… you’re…” you breathed.

“You good?” Ashton Irwin asked, nodding at the stain seeping into your shirt, from your knocked over drink.

You looked down at your shirt. “Oh, yeah,” you laughed nervously. “Only water. Is your beer okay?”

“No harm, no foul,” he said. “Can I buy you a new water?”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you brushed him off.

“Nah, it’s my fault you’re wearing your drink. I wasn’t looking where I was walking.”

“It’s okay, honestly,” you assured him.

“I won’t take no for an answer, Y/N,” he smiled, his dimple showing, and you felt your heart race in your chest. Ashton Irwin wanted to buy you a new water and he knew who you were? Wow…

“You… you know who I am?” you asked as you walked faster to keep up with his long strides as he went in search of a drink stand.

“Course I do. Big fan of the Olympics.”

“I haven’t even gone yet.”

“I know. I like to keep updated on who’s going. Word on the street is, you’re gonna win your team the gold. Powerful swing, fast feet, quicker hands. Phew, you’re dangerous, sweetheart.”

“I’m not that good,” you mumbled as your cheeks flushed.

“Aw, she’s modest, too,” he grinned. “You’re phenomenal. Don’t let anyone tell you any different. 1 water please.”

Your cheeks flushed a deeper red as he handed you the water bottle. “Thanks.”

“See you around, Y/N,” he winked, placing a hand on your shoulder before disappearing in the crowd.

You took a drink of your water. What the hell had just happened?

~~~

Good luck, Y/N! your phone pinged.

Ash? How did you know I was playing today? you messaged back, holding back a grin. He had messaged you for the first time shortly after your run-in, and he messaged you at least once a day either to wish you luck or to remind you that you were phenomenal. You had already written 2 songs about him. Lovestruck ones about how sweet he was, and how it could never happen because you were 17, and he had just turned 22.

Gotta keep tabs on my favorite girl.

Your face flushed. Ash, you really shouldn’t say things like that.

But it’s true. Let me take you out for coffee when you get home. I miss you.

Ash, you barely know me.

Bullshit. We’re famous, sweetheart. Everybody knows us.

~~~

“Stop!” you giggled, throwing a straw wrapper at him.

“What you did! You were phenomenal out there. As always.”

You kept giggling. You had been friends with Ashton for almost 8 months now. Friends as your age gap was still a big concern for you. But, there was no denying the chemistry that was between the two of you. “I’m really not.”

“Hey! What did I tell you? You are phenomenal. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. That includes you.”

“But if I do that, then I won’t have you to remind me,” you smiled over at him.

“Oh, I’ll always remind you. Don’t worry about that.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he said, then his lips were on yours. A brief, soft kiss. You were about to melt into it, but your brain screaming at you that this was wrong was too much to ignore.

“No!” you gasped, pulling away. “Ash, no… Don’t do that…”

“What? Don’t kiss you? Y/N, do you know how long I’ve been waiting to do that?”

“Ash… I’m… you’re… we’re…”

“You turned 18 yesterday,” he reminded you.

“You’re still way older than me! This… this… no. No, Ash.”

“Really? You’re still gonna pull the age-gap card? You’re 18! And don’t you dare sit there and say you haven’t been thinking about kissing me.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he was right. Of course you had thought about kissing him. You had 7 songs sitting on your computer that were all about him and wanting to kiss him. Songs he would never hear. “Ash, we live totally different lives. We can’t do this.”

“Different lives? Yes, okay. You’re in college, and I’m a rockstar. Sure. But we’re both in the public eye. We’re still really good friends. Friends who have more than friends feelings towards each other.”

“No!”

He sighed. “Alright. Fine.”

After that encounter you had 8 songs about him.

~~~

“Move in with me.”

“What?!”

“Move. In. With. Me.”

“Ash!”

“Y/N!”

“I can’t just move in with you!”

“Yes you can! You’re going to be a sophomore in college, you can’t possibly like staying in that crapped dorm. I have plenty of room at my place. Plenty of privacy, too, as I’m hardly ever home.”

“I’m not dating you, Ashton.”

“I’m not asking you to, Y/N.”

“Good. As long as we both know that I’m moving in as a friend.”

He put up his hands in surrender. “Just friends.”

Your eyes narrowed at your “friend” and his hazel eyes that were full of trouble. “Fine. I’ll move in with you.”

“Great! I’ll help you pack.”

~~~

“No! I’m not ready! Can’t you understand that!” you screamed at Ashton.

“This is bullshit! You’re 20 years old, Y/N! We’re not those same kids from 2 and a half years ago! Nobody cares about the stupid age gap!” he screamed back, his eyes shining with tears.

“I do! I care! I just turned 20! You’re gonna be 25! That’s a huge difference!”

“No, it isn’t! Not to me anyway!”

“Well, good for you!”

“I can’t do this… God, I can’t keep doing this! Grow up, Y/N.” He grabbed his jacket and stormed towards the front door.

“What?! You’re just gonna leave?! Ashton, get back here!”

“I need to get to the studio, Y/N,” he said, his voice suddenly soft. “We can talk more when I get back, but honestly, I don’t know if I’m going to want to. I just… I need space. Hell, maybe we both do.” And with that, you were left alone in your shared home, wondering if it was even yours anymore. You were losing him, as a roommate, as a friend, as a potential lover, and for what? For being too afraid of your feelings? No, that wasn’t good enough. Ashton was right. It was time to grow up and stop being a scared little kid. You were phenomenal and it was time to start acting like it. So, you did what you did best. You created music. And this time, he was going to hear you.

Your fingers shook as you typed out the message.

If you show this to anyone, I’m moving out, and you’ll never hear from me again. It’s called You, Me, Us.

Before you could overthink, you attached the audio file and hit send. “Please don’t break my heart,” you whispered before shutting off your phone, terrified of the response.

Ashton’s phone pinged and he was grateful for the interruption. They were stuck on making the last song for the album and nothing they were making seemed like it was good enough. When he saw the notification was from you, he grabbed his headphones and excused himself into a different room.

He read the message first, his heart soaring. He knew how private you kept your music, never letting him so much as catch you doing something as simple as playing. Music was the one thing you had always kept just for yourself. He hit play on the 9 minute audio clip, your voice sounding out, “Alright, Ash… this has been a long time coming, but uh.. Yeah. Here it goes.” The clip was bass heavy, a drum beat looping on repeat, a little upbeat feel from the piano kicking in throughout.

If his heart had soared at your message, it ripped out of his chest with your music. A wordless melody that expressed 2 and a half years worth of emotion you felt towards one man- him. He scrambled around for loose pieces of paper, penning out a response as he hit repeat.

He was on his third listen, his response nearly complete when Calum’s “There you are, mate! We’ve been looking all over for you,” startled him.

“Jesus, Cal!” he exclaimed, a hand flying to his chest, hitting pause and slipping his headphones around his neck. “Damn near gave me a heart attack…”

“Were you crying? You okay?”

Ashton touched a hand to his face, his cheeks wet. Shit, he didn’t even notice, he had been so lost. Ashton sniffed and wiped at his face. “Yeah, I’m good, mate. I think.”

Calum raised an eyebrow, not sure what to believe, so he just dropped it in favor of wondering what his friend had been up to. “What’s this?” he asked, his Vans tapping lightly against the thrown about papers.

“Our last song,” Ashton grinned.

Calum picked up one of the pieces, scanning the title. “Part 2? When did we write Part 1?”

“We didn’t. She did.”

“Oh, shit…” Calum breathed, realizing the weight of the situation. “C’mon, let’s get this recorded for her.”

“Mike, you ready for a solo?” Ashton asked, once he and Calum went into the other room where Luke and Mike were in the midst of a guitar riff-off.

Mike’s note came to a definitive finish. “Solo?”

Ashton nodded, waving the lyrics in his hand. He would sing it himself, but his solo songs didn’t lend themselves well to being added to setlists and this was definitely one he wanted to play on tour. And he knew Mike would be able to get the emotion he needed and deserved a song on the album to showcase more than his incredible guitar playing, even if the man didn’t agree he had the best singing voice. “I only got the words, but I figure we can pair it with some heavy drums, a bitchin bass line, and some piano work. What do you guys say?”

“I say let’s make a hit!” Luke said, excited to have something to work with.

An hour later the four men sat around booth while their song played out around them, grins on their faces. “We gotta make this a single,” Luke said.

“Oh, yeah,” Mike agreed.

“Y/N gets writing credit,” Ashton told them.

“What? She didn’t write this. She’s not even here,” Mike laughed.

“She doesn’t even go here!” Luke added with a laugh of his own.

“Quit quoting Mean Girls,” Calum said with an eye roll. “You idiots do know that this title has Part 2 in it right? Y/N gets credit.”

“Shit, she wrote part 1? Where is it?” Mike asked, his green eyes wide in excitement.

“Not a chance, Mikey. Y/N trusted me that nobody besides me would hear Part 1. Now, get that on a CD for me so I can go home to my girl.”

“Your girl? What? Are you guys finally dating?!” Mike asked, his fingers inching towards Ashton’s phone.

“I dunno, mate, but I’m gonna try,” Ashton told him, moving his phone away from Mike’s hands. “Now, give her writing credit. Put it on the album. Release it as a single. And give me my damn song.”

“I thought it was Y/N’s song,” Luke teased.

“It’s our song,” he corrected, meaning Y/N and himself. Then, “Mikey, so help me God, I will break your fingers if you so much as look at my phone. No one is hearing that song.”

His hand dropped. “But… I need Part 1 to know how to sing Part 2!”

“You sang it fine, mate. Touch the phone, and I’ll break every bone in your damn hands. Are we all in agreement? This song wouldn’t exist without her.”

“Yeah, mate. Single. Album. Writing credit. Here’s her song. Go get your woman,” Calum said, tossing Ashton the CD.

“Let me hear the song!” Mike screamed after the older man as Ashton grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

“I mean it, Mike. Hands. Broken. Nobody hears Part 1 but Y/N and me.”

~~~

“Y/N? Are you home?” Ashton’s voice called throughout the house. His hand clutched around the CD case, shaking with his nerves. When he didn’t hear you, he went searching, scared he wouldn’t find you, that you had left anyway after your fight earlier that morning. “Y/N,” he breathed, sighing in relief as he found you on your bedroom floor, a suitcase open.

Tears where in your eyes, and you didn’t dare look at him, for fear of crying again. You had been crying all day. “I’ll be done in a minute,” you sniffed.

He crossed the room to you and wrapped you in his arms. “What are you doing, gorgeous girl?” he whispered.

“Giving you your space,” you whispered back, still refusing to look at him. “God, I’m such an idiot…”

“Y/N, you are the smartest person I know. Now, slow down a second. What’s wrong?”

“Everything!” you screamed suddenly, your composure shattering into a million pieces. Why did it feel like he was holding you together? Why did you like it so much? Why were you so in love with a man you could never have? Why was he in love with a stupid kid? “Let me go!”

His response was to hold you tighter as you thrashed against him. “Y/N, stop,” his voice urged. “You’re gonna hurt yourself, baby.”

“I don’t care!” you continued to scream. “Stop calling me that! Stop calling me gorgeous! Stop calling me baby! Stop calling me phenomenal! Let me go! I don’t care!”

“No! I love you, Y/N! And I’m never letting you go.”

His words startled you. He had never said those words to you. All your fights about whether or not you should be together, and he had never said those words. “You what?”

“I love you, Y/N,” he repeated, before crushing his lips to yours.

This time, when you melted into him, the nagging voice telling you this was wrong stayed silent. Your arms wrapped around his neck, holding him to you, as his arms held you tightly, both of you a tangled puddle on your bedroom floor. “I love you too, Ash,” you said when the kiss finally broke, breathless, your lips tingling.

“Good. I have something for you,” he said, getting up and putting the CD into your stereo.

“You wrote me a song?”

“Call it Part 2,” he smiled before he hit play and left the room for you to enjoy the next 3 minutes and 3 seconds in peace.

You were crying before Mike even started singing. By the time the verse hit, you were dancing, the tears falling freely down your face. By the time the song ended, you had no doubt in your mind that you were going to be love with Ashton Irwin for as long as the world kept on spinning.

You went to start the song over, but clapped your hand over your mouth instead. Only Mike’s voice was singing the song, with only Ashton’s voice harmonizing in the background. Mike had done a fabulous job, but in order to the song justice, he deserved to hear Part 1. Which meant you had to share the most vulnerable part of you with someone who wasn’t Ashton. “Oh, no…”

“What? What’s wrong?” Ashton said, sticking his head in, worry written all over his face.

“It’s beautiful,” you told him, throwing your arms around him.

“So, why are you crying then?”

“I have to let Mikey hear Part 1.”

“I, uh… I might have…”

“Ashton!” you growled. “I trusted you!”

“And I didn’t show him! I told him I’d break his fingers if he so much as looked at my phone! I don’t think he’s gonna want to listen cuz of that.”

“Call him over. Tell him I said he needs to hear Part 1, and that his hands are safe.”

~~~

“We need to get to the studio,” Mike said, after listening to Part 1. “Now.”

“Now?” both you and Ashton asked him, bewildered.

“Yes! I can sing this so much better now that I know the emotion behind it! We can’t put the original on our album now!”

“You’re gonna put this on the album?” you squeaked.

“Giving you writing credit, too,” Mike winked at you.

“What? No… No!”

Ashton laughed and twirled you in a circle. “Yes, and yes! The world deserves to know your brilliance, you phenomenal woman!”

“Well, go record the new version, then,” you laughed with him.

“Hey, Y/N, you got any other great hits like that one that we can have Ash write responses to?”

“You’ll never know,” you winked. In truth, you had enough for a whole album yourself. “Oh, and Mikey?”

“Yeah?”

“Nobody finds out that you listened to Part 1.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

“I mean it, Mikey. I’d hate for Ash to break those talented fingers of yours.”

His hands went behind his back. “Trust me, I know all about wanting to keep your private life private.”

~~~

“We already recorded it!” Calum groaned. It was 2 am by the time all four men were back in the studio.

“But, I had an epiphany! I know I can sing this song better. I know it!” Mike said.

“Ash,” both Calum and Luke looked at Ashton, begging the oldest for help.

Ashton shrugged. “He’s the one singing it. If he wants to tweak it, that’s his choice.”

“I hate this band…” Luke pouted, sitting down at the piano.

~~~

“So, this song, it’s actually Part 2? Which begs the question, where’s Part 1?” Zach Sang asked.

Ashton laughed. He had been dodging this question in every interview on this press tour. But, you had finally given the okay to reveal the truth, even share Part 1 because you wanted the world to know the whole story and Zach Sang’s interview was the best place as he was an interviewer who actually gave a shit about their art, rather than their personal lives. “It’s a bit of a story,” Ashton continued to chuckle.

“Well, by all means, let’s hear it.”

“So, Y/N and I… we met a few years ago at a music festival. And uh… well, it’s hard not to like that woman, lemme tell ya. She’s phenomenal. Anyway, she was only seventeen back then. So we were just friends, for a long time. And, uh… eventually, when she got older, I asked her to move in with me, as friends. Anyway, jumping ahead, we got in a fight the morning I wrote this song. I’ve never hid my affection for her, and I was getting more than a little mad she wasn’t willing to reciprocate, especially since our age gap isn’t as big a deal now that she’s twenty. And I left for the studio, midfight basically. And we were struggling with this album. I mean, we’ve been working hard, but it was missing something, and we couldn’t figure it out. But then, Y/N sent me Part 1. Being a musician is something she’s always kept very private, so I quickly hid out in another room to listen to it because, my God, she was finally trusting me to listen to her stuff. And like not even 2 hours later we had my response.”

“But Mikey sings it?”

“Yeah. I did it that way on purpose. I want to be able to play this song when we tour, so I can’t really be the one singing it.”

“So, how did you record Part 2 then, if no one’s heard Part 1 besides you?”

“Oh, we re-recorded it after I heard it,” Mike piped up.

Calum, Luke, and Zach all looked at Mike with wide eyes. “You heard it?”

Mike nodded. “Yeah, it’s fantastic. Can we play it?”

“You have Part 1?” Zach asked, excitedly.

Ashton nodded and pulled out his phone. “Y/N wanted me to share it here on your show. Both parts, one right after the other, the full story. It’s long.”

Zach just smiled. “Alright, let’s hear this love story, folks. You, Me, Us Parts 1 and 2, coming at you live from the Zach Sang Show.”

~~~

“Here,” you said, placing a cassette player in Ashton’s hands.

“I don’t have any tapes, gorgeous,” he smiled at you.

“Yes you do,” you told him, tapping the cassette player. “Don’t lose it.”

“Are these your songs?”

You nodded. “There’s only 4, but they’re long. Mikey helped me.”

He pulled you in for a tight hug, covering the top of your head in kisses. “I’ll protect it with my life,” he promised.

~~~

“Baby!” Ashton voice said, laced with panic.

“What?!”

“I need a new tape!”

“What?!”

“The tape! I played it too much! The songs! Baby!” His voice was high and there were tears in his eyes. “I said I would protect it, and it broke! Please! My favorite song!” he continued to panic.

“Hey, relax,” you soothed. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not! I said I would protect it, and it broke! Stupid antique junk!”

“Ash! Stop. Look,” you said, flashing a new tape. “I’ll overnight it, okay? Just breathe.”

“I’m so sorry…”

“It’s okay,” you smiled at him. The fact that he had played it so much he wore out the tape meant the world to you. You would make him a billion copies if he played each one to their breaking point. “One mixtape straight out of ‘94 heading your way.”

“You were born in ‘99…”

“And the man behind the music is a product of ‘94,” you smiled. “It’ll be there soon, Ash. Don’t worry. I love you.”

“I love you too. And I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s just a tape.”

“No it’s not. It’s our tape.”

~~~

Before he left for his World Way Joy tour, you gave him another tape. “Don’t break this one,” you teased.

“Not funny!”

“It’s a little funny,” you laughed.

“It’s not funny… I was very careful with it…”

“It’s true,” Mike piped up, overhearing the conversation.

“He doesn’t go anywhere without that damn hunk of junk,” Calum scoffed.

“It’s vintage!” Ashton hissed playfully.

“It’s obsolete, mate. Just put those suckers on Spotify, Y/N.”

“Never!” you smiled, hugging Calum goodbye. “Take care of him for me.”

“Always, Y/N, always.”

~~~

When Ashton finally came home, after both the tour and spending the holidays with his family, he was restless.

You rolled over in bed to find it empty. You squinted as you checked the time: 2:13 am. Where the hell is he? you wondered as you got out of bed to search for him.

You found him in the backyard, guitar strumming softly, a cup of coffee on the patio table. “Ash,” you whispered, pulling the blanket tightly around you. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Late?”

“Very… is that coffee?”

“It’s decaf…”

“Come to bed.”

“Can’t sleep.”

“Can’t sleep? Ash, you need to try. Rest your body at least.” Now you were worried. You had noticed the dark circles under his eyes when he came home earlier that afternoon, but you had expected the man to sleep soundly for several hours, not be wide awake at 2 in the morning. This, you decided, was very bad.

“Not. Tired,” came the response and a pluck of guitar strings.

You sighed, but decided not to say anything. Ashton was a grown man and he wouldn’t appreciate you babying him. Instead, you had an idea.

You worked relentlessly on the project, using the research of you thesis project to help you, keeping late hours yourself. Ashton was worried you were pushing yourself too hard, but he also kept his mouth shut. You weren’t giving him shit about his insomnia, so he wasn’t going to give you shit for yours. Instead, he got interested in what his girlfriend was up to.

“Whatcha doing?” he asked, wrapping his arms around you.

Your head snapped up. “Thesis,” you said, pulling out of his arms and out of your seat in front of the keyboard.

“Your thesis has you making music?”

An idea formed in your head. “Yeah,” you said, leading him to the bedroom. “It’s crazy what music does to brain waves, Ash.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s like a drug, almost,” you explained, pulling him into bed.

“Mmm, fascinating,” he smiled at you. He loved when your smart side showed in full force even though he had no idea what you were talking about half the time.

“Yeah,” you smiled back, running your hands through his hair. “So, we already know how music makes people feel. There’s this study where they tested the idea of music being therapeutic. What they did is they did a series of surgeries, already planned surgeries, mind you. But they did these surgeries. Some with music playing, some without. And what they noticed was incredible!” you were whispering now as his eyelids drooped lower and lower.

“Mmm, incredible, yeah,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, it’s incredible. And what they realized was that the patients who listened to the music, even though they had no memory of it, they had faster recovery times. And like they mapped how their brains reacted to different kinds of music. And like, that’s what I’m doing! Like what type of music causes our brain waves to do this instead of that type of stuff. God, Ash, it’s so cool!”

“Mmm, very,” he mumbled again, then let out a small snore.

You grinned to yourself. Finally, Ashton was asleep. Now, you just had to find a way to make him sleep like this without boring him to death with research and science. You were almost there. You just needed to run the tests to make sure you could record the perfect lullaby.

~~~

“Here!” you grinned, handing him the tape before he left for his No Shame tour.

“How many tapes do you have, gorgeous?” he laughed, taking the tape anyway.

“Last one, I promise,” you told him. “Just listen to it when you go to bed, okay?”

“Okay,” he told you.

Later that night, he crawled into his bunk on the tour bus, put in the tape, secured his headphones, and hit play. In 5 minutes, he was in the deepest sleep of his life.

“Baby, I don’t know what type of superpowers you put in that last tape, but I swear I haven’t been able to finish it.”

You grinned. Your research had paid off. You had created the perfect lullaby. “Good!”

“No, not good. I want to finish it. I want to hear your music. But every time I’m out like a light. I dunno what it is.”

“It’s the music,” you continued to grin. “Brain waves. Science!” You were laughing now and wiggling your fingers like magic. “The power of sleep compels you!”

He laughed with you. “Thanks baby. I don’t think I’ve ever slept better.”

~~~

“So my last thing… and this counts as 1 thing!” Ashton laughed, pulling out the tape player and 3 cassettes. “This… wow, I never go anywhere without this. Tour, grocery shopping, anywhere.”

“Tell us what it is, Ash,” Calum said from behind the camera.

“Right! It’s uh… it’s a tape player that plays my 3 favorite tapes.”

“What are the tapes?” Mike boomed from behind the camera.

“I’m getting there!” Ashton laughed. “So, my phenomenal girlfriend made me these tapes. And I carry them with me everywhere.”

“He even showers with them,” Luke said, stepping into view.

“I do not!” Ashton protested.

“What’s on the tapes?” Mike asked.

“It’s porn, Mikey,” Calum said.

“Shut up, and let me talk, or get off the set,” Ashton laughed.

“Yeah, let him finish!” Luke said.

“LeT mE fInIsH!” Calum and Mike taunted.

“Anyway…” Ashton said, waving the tapes. “Not porn. My phenomenal girlfriend decided to share her music with me. And because she’s very private about her music, I promised to protect them.”

“It’s cuz it’s porn!” Calum whisper-yelled.

“Is not!”

“Oh, just tell ‘em how you broke one already,” Mike said.

“Right! So… uh, one of these, this one,” he said, waving the tape for emphasis, “is not the original. I played it so much in those first few days I actually broke it. And I called her in a panic to ask for a new one because my favorite song was on it. Still is my favorite. You might’ve heard it. It’s Part 1 of Me, You, Us. Anyway, now I only play the tapes once a day. And, uh, yeah, those are my 5 must haves on tour. I’m Ashton Irwin, thanks.”

“Wait, is that why you’ve been wearing jumpsuits in this era? All those pockets to hold them tapes?” Luke asked, coming back on screen.

“As a matter of fact, it is. If the tapes aren’t physically on me, they’re in a bag by my feet. Always in my line of sight and close to my heart. Y/N, I love you gorgeous. Your tapes are safe with me, baby. I promise. And again, I’m Ashton Irwin, and this has been 5 Things with 5SOS. See you all at the Tokyo Olympics where I’ll be cheering my phenomenal girlfriend as she makes her second debut as shortstop for America’s softball team. Did I mention she was phenomenal? And my girlfriend? Cuz she is!”

#mixtapes #ashton irwin #ashton blurb #5sos #galcal irwin #wow this was so fun to write!#thanks kerry for the idea!#happy reading!

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