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bartxnhood · 5 months

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you don’t go to parties | a.f.i

ashton irwin x fem!reader

summary: ashton wonders why he keeps searching for you at parties. because after all, you don’t go to parties anymore.

warnings: drinking, swearing, just the party scene

w/c: 2.4k

requests open

not proofread

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“hey, it’s y/n. sorry, i missed your call. leave a message after the beep. bye!”

“hey, uh, it’s me, just been thinking about everything tonight and i don’t know… i just miss you so much. call me when you can. bye.”

ashton removes the phone from his ear and ends the call, followed by a long, drawn-out sigh as he stares at your contact photo.

you were standing on the harbour bridge with him, kissing his cheek. it was taken on his first tour, when the band was opening for one direction, and he had just asked you to be his girlfriend, to which you of course said yes. he was your best friend and the person you had fallen in love with years before.

you've been by his side since the beginning of the band till today. you helped him throughout his most difficult times, and he did the same for you. at one point you considered him your soulmate and imagined spending the rest of your life by his side.

that was, until the parties.

it wasn't horrible at first. you'd join him at a few parties here and there. it was fun at first but then things got out of hand. ashton would party practically every night, and the parties eventually moved to his house, where you also lived. and it was well into the morning before the nights ended. so, you'd just hide out in your bedroom or at a friend's house.

it was exhausting. you could never get anything done because your house was always filled with strangers. and you couldn’t talk to ashton about it because he was always hungover and told you he’d talk to you later.

eventually, it got to the point where you just couldn’t take it anymore. so, you left him.

ashton was a disaster. every night, he'd be out partying or at a bar, hoping to drown out the haunting thoughts of you.

his partying addiction had gotten worse since you left. he couldn't even remember what he done the previous week since he had been partying so hard that it was killing him.

sometimes he’d call you when he was blackout drunk, professing undying love for you and how he regrets everything. other nights, when he isn’t so drunk, he’d still call you and apologize for the drunk calls.

he was spiraling down a deep dark alley, and if he didn’t fix himself now, he’d never see the light again.

ashton didn’t know why he continued to party and drink so much. but, he continued without thinking about the consequences. even if he knew how bad he was while under the influence.

some nights were worse than others.

one night it got very out of hand.

it was nearing five in the morning and ashton had one too many like he usually does but tonight was different. he was angry. angry at himself for letting you slip from his hands, angry he treated you like gum on the bottom of his shoe when instead of the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

ashton sat on his sofa staring at the wall with a red solo cup in hand, occasionally looking towards the door hoping you’d walk through and come back to him. but of course, you never did, and you wouldn’t because you don’t go to parties anymore.

luke sat with his head hung, rubbing his temples. “ashton, you’ve had too much. cmon man. just go to bed and we will clean up. it’s almost five a.m”

but ashton doesn’t say anything, he just sits there and down the rest of the liquid in his cup before tossing it to the floor

“yeah, no wonder y/n left you.” ashton hears michael say under his breath which was just enough to send ashton over the edge.

now it was getting out of hand, ashton was screaming his lungs out at michael while he just stood there with his hands up, signaling he didn’t want to fight ashton.

finally luke called the one person he knew who would help. you.

“hey, y/n, i’m sorry it’s so late…well early but ash is drunk, very drunk. can you come get him? he’s causing a scene.”

"what? oh, christ. yeah, I'll be there in ten," you said as you jumped out of bed, grabbed the nearest sweater and sweatpants, and ran out of your apartment.

your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. the drive was a blur, trying to get there as quickly as possible in order to avoid another fight.

you knew most people would never do this for their ex, but you still loved him. you were still madly in love with him at the time. you listen to every message he's ever left on your phone.

your inbox was overflowing with them.

you heard every sincere confession, every drunken apology, and every sober apology.

of course, you still had feelings for him.

you never stopped.

“thank you for coming.” luke swung the door open letting you slip inside, then walked through the trashed house. “he’s in the living room” you looked through the kitchen archway to see where luke was pointing, and then you saw him.

you pushed the door open and walked across smashed cans and cups to his side. "ashton?" your voice was soft, as if you were unsure how he would react to your sudden appearance. maybe he'll lash out at you, or he'll remain mute and go away.

he raised his head, his gaze meeting yours. ashton comes to a halt from whatever nonsense he was doing, which was probably another drunken rage. was this really happening? he asks, as he stares at you in bewilderment. are you standing directly in front of him? was he dreaming?

"y/n?" he calls your name, and you question, "ash, what's going on?" and his eyes glaze over merely hearing your concern.he only blinks in response, trying to figure out the situation.

he can't believe you're at his party after swearing them off, and it's for HIM. not anywhere else but his house. he says "y/n" a few times before wrapping his arms around your stomach and tightening his grip. he couldn't let you go away again.

you just let it happen and hug him back as he sits on the sofa, saying, "hey, I'm here, it'll be okay" and attempting to calm him down. despite your best attempts, he pulls away, taking everything in.

you noticed luke about to say something, so you put your hand out to stop him, silently shaking your head.

you knew ashton was in pain, so you took him upstairs. "hey why don't we get you upstairs and into bed?" you gently held his arm, which calmed him down. he allowed you to take him upstairs and away from the party. you pull over to chat to one of the boys on the way, saying that you're going to take him to bed.

"I appreciate you calling. I'll get him settled and then return to assist you with the cleanup." you say to luke before leaving.

you help him upstairs, doing your best to keep him upright. as you led ashton to the bed, he was babbling incomprehensible words. and after completing your normal cleaning and care for him, you took a step back. anxiety and confusion consume your body. thank goodness, his luke called you.

You've read the articles about his constant parties and the drunken scenes he created. he was a mess. but it was how he was dealing with the break up. you, on the other hand, have stayed home every night, watching sad movies, weeping yourself to sleep most nights, losing your appetite, and creating excuses not to see sierra or crystal. Isolation was your only option for coping.

you begin to rub the bridge of your nose as you stand by the side of the bed, looking down at ashton, who was in and out of consciousness. your heart was beating, and you were at a loss for what to do. when ashton opens his eyes and sees this, he becomes upset once more. he’s sorry you had to go to another party for him, and he rubs his eyes before saying, "you shouldn't have come." "y’hate parties." "i had to," you say, dropping your hands. "i was worried." he could see it in your eyes that you were sincere. "you're scaring me, ash" you took a pause to attempt to calm yourself as tears began to pool in your eyes.

you try to get him to bed without confessing anything or saying anything you don't genuinely mean, knowing he's incredibly inebriated and emotional. "scaring you?" he took a deep breath as he watched you toss his shoes to the floor. "yes. you’re killing yourself. i’m not going to sit by and let you do that." maybe you were getting a little emotional right now, so you looked away to gather your thoughts and finish getting him ready for bed. if he chooses to sleep.

you left the room once he was settled for a bottle of water. he probably won't know you're gone. only luke and calum remained, clearing up the garbage from the party. they all glanced up at you, waiting for news, but you just shook your head and said nothing.

you returned, half-opening the bottle and placing it next to the bed. ashton is staring at you in awe. "you're always the one taking care of me and i never deserved it," he says. “you deserved so much better than me." you didn't let the fact that he was incredibly intoxicated and emotional get to you.

you lower your head, nibbling on the inside of your cheek. don’t let him hurt you like this, y/n. you kept thinking to yourself, he was intoxicated and didn't mean anything. you get up to leave, eager to go home and cry into your pillow about how much he misses you. he reached for your hand, carefully gripping it, and said, "stay with me." you freeze, tilt your head, and appear torn, so he adds "please? just tonight." while staring into your eyes, desperate.

so, you stayed. laying on the opposite side of ashton, you heard his breath steady assuming he was finally going to sleep. until you heard “i love you.” you had only hoped that if you were still he’d leave it alone and would just go to sleep. but he continued. “when i left that morning, i didn’t stop. i never did. you’re my whole world, and i hate the person i’ve become. i wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, but i screwed it up.” your heart was racing, picking at your nails you felt him shuffle next to you. “you were the best thing i’ve ever had and i let you go. ‘m sorry. you can hate me. i understand.” you waited a bit, but that was the last thing he said for the night.

you ended up leaving before he woke up because it was now daylight and you didn't want to be there when he did. you stood above him before leaving, and he looked so calm. naturally, you bowed down and kissed his brow softly before exiting the room. so, you were gone by eight a.m. you had a minor breakdown on the drive home, knowing that the love is still there, and seeing him so vulnerable makes your heart ache. but you kept reminding yourself that he was drunk. he most likely didn't mean half of what he stated.

right?

you had just finished your meeting the next day and were standing in your kitchen preparing a cup of coffee when you were stopped by a rhythmic knock. you walked over leaving the cup on your counter. as you answered the door, you saw ashton.

“hey.” he said, stuffing his hands into his jacket. you stepped back, then saying “why are you here?” ashton looked around, spitting a few framed pictures of the two of you which he thought was odd. he thought you hated him. he shrugged, “i just wanted to thank you for last night, and everything.” you sighed, “come in” you stepped to the side and let him enter, then closed the door behind him. “do you want some coffee?” he sat down on the sofa.

“sure.” he answered, looking around the room. you came back with a black mug and handed it to him, and took your seat across from him.

there was a moment of silence, the two of you would steal glances at each other but didn’t want to say anything, wondering how to approach the conversation waiting to be held.

his comment was abrupt. “i meant what i said, you know.” you looked up from your coffee, to meet with his eyes already looking at you. “what?” you blinked, placing the mug on the table. “last night. everything, i meant it. from me still loving you, to wanting to spend the rest of my life with you. i meant every word.” he was being sincere, he held eye contact as he spoke and didn’t break it once.

truthfully, you didn’t know what to say. the situation wasn’t ideal, and to be honest with yourself, you knew you still loved him. “ashton..” you finally spoke, followed by a long sigh and dropping your head into your hands.

“then why do you continue to do this? you’re drinking yourself to death, ash. how can i trust that you won’t do it all over again, even if i want to work this out?” ashton stands up from his spot and moves in front of you, on his knees as he holds your hands. "i get drunk to forget the color of your eyes and the way your hair falls and how soft your skin is and the way your smile makes me feel; but it seems like the alcohol can't change my memory of you." he had been waiting to tell you this for the longest, “i do it because it’s the only way i know how to cope and i know it isn’t the best way, but it’s all i know.”

ashton runs his thumb over your knuckles. you look down at his calloused hands feeling your lip quiver “and if that isn’t enough just tell me, and i’ll leave for good.”

you shake your head letting the tears fall, “ash..i just want you to stop..all this drinking isn’t good for you, i can’t just let that happen.” you say, and he nods. “i know, i know.” he hushes your tears, raising up to hug you. “i’ll do better, i promise.” he says into your hair while wiping your tears.

“how can i trust you?” you ask

“because, i love you. and i’ll be damned if i lose you again.”

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getsojaded · 2 years

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you don’t go to parties || calum hood

word count: 2.3k+

warnings: ALCOHOL!!!! pls continue with caution if triggering. + swearing, and a fuck ton of angst. like a stupid amount. calum x she/her reader, lowercase intended!

a/n: guess what my fav song off 5sos5 is lol. i am so in love with this album so i quickly wrote this up xoxo

i still think about the times we were heavy

racehorse trippin' on the dirt that you got on me

vultures spinnin' up above of what's left of me

we go stupid every night, what a tragedy

“you are not about to take another shot,” calum’s slurred voice laughs at the girl beside him, as she attempts to make a clean pour into the small glass in front of her. needless to say, she didn’t do such a good job. that’s what happens when you’re one too many drinks in.

“you smoked four joints outside. i’m allowed to take as many shots as i want!” she responds, tilting her head back as the liquid runs down her throat, resulting in a sour face from y/n as she reaches for the closest bottle of coke.

a red, puffy eyed calum stumbles closer towards y/n and embraces her in a hug, kissing her temple. “we do this too much, don’t we?” he asks, as he sways their bodies back and forth.

“yeah, way too much..” she trails off, as the two get lost in the moment of each other, standing in the middle of the overcrowded kitchen.

the music is loud, the room is hot, there’s too many people, and there’s too many coloured lights flashing everywhere.

but calum and y/n didn’t care. staring into each others eyes with the widest grins plastered across their faces, they both knew that they wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

when you’re young, the number one rule you’re always told is have fun, you’re never gonna get these years back.

the pair made sure to do everything possible to make sure they wouldn’t regret it.

but being young doesn’t last forever.

in the blink of an eye, life changes and the real world is in front of you.

no more college parties getting absolutely shitfaced every weekend. no more spontaneous adventures in the middle of the night because you have nothing else to do. no more doing things that you shouldn’t be doing. no more distractions.

no more young love.

calum and y/n couldn’t have seen it coming at all.

but when you’re having as much fun as them two, who would’ve?

calum realized that school wasn’t for him, and started pursuing a music career with him and his friends that he met in college, who felt the same way as he did.

y/n on the other hand, was determined to earn her degree and make her family proud.

despite their differences, they had no doubts about keeping each other around. they loved one another, and that’s what truly matters, right?

so calum didn’t think too much of it when he started going to parties alone, when y/n declined because of her loads of homework piling up on top of another.

he always made sure to come back to her at the end of the night, holding her tight while she slept, burnt out from the thousands of words she read just hours before he came back to her dorm — he had practically moved in, although he wasn’t even in school anymore.

and it worked for them.

until they got older.

still so in love, they managed to get a place together after y/n graduated. and while y/n was out and about hunting for jobs, calum was in the studio with his band.

and whenever calum was in the studio with his band, it led to a party at the end of it. and he always made sure that his y/n was on his hip, as they drank and danced the night away together.

“they’re so cute,” luke chuckled as michael was pouring himself another drink, as they watched the two hold each other as they drunkenly sang the words to some old chris brown r&b love song — of course calum knew every word.

michael turns his head to the couple standing in the middle of the living room, and even though there’s a countless amount of people beside them, it feels like they’re the only two people in the room. “they’re forever. no doubt about it.” michael responds to the blonde boy sitting next to him, a little smile curved on his face.

–

i’m still here in the darkness

back where we started

you made me a heartless monster

i’m caught up in distractions

fatal attractions

i’m starting to come undone

it was so good.

it was so good, until it wasn’t.

when y/n started working full time, calum and his band still had nothing else to do. i mean, an album release and a world tour just before, you need some sort of a break.

y/n started working 9-5’s and calum was still showing up to functions without his plus one. one party turned into fifty parties, and next thing you know, it’s a surprise it calum makes it home before y/n goes to bed. y/n was so busy, she couldn’t even tell that calum had been going out so frequently until her first day off rolled around the corner.

and there she was, sitting in the middle of their shared apartment, watching tv and waiting for her boyfriend to come home.

she knew that she should go to bed; she had work the next day. but she’s never spent a day without at least knowing where he was. at least that’s what she thought.

calum rolls in around 3:00 am, stumbling into their home and kicking off his shoes. y/n rushes towards him to make sure he doesn’t fall, her arms wrapping around his body as he clutches onto her shoulders. “baby, you’re awake. it’s so late!” he slurs, kissing her on the cheek.

“i was waiting for you,” she whispers in response, assisting him in going upstairs. “does this happen every night?”

“only the nights you don’t come with me.”

“so… every night.”

–

calum’s never felt more pain in his life. yeah, he’s felt like shit when he’s throwing up outside some random person’s backyard, or when he loses his balance and falls face first into the pavement, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the moment that y/n walked out on him.

coincidentally, calum had no intentions of staying out past his studio session today. walking into their abode before midnight was now a rare occurrence, and it felt refreshing to calum as he drives home, the sky painted a pink and orange shade as the sun started to go down.

walking into his apartment and being greeted by duke — which hadn’t happened in quite a minute — the house was quiet.

i mean, when calum goes home, it’s always quiet. y/n’s always sleeping. but this silence felt eerie. from what calum was aware of, y/n had always liked to keep some music on throughout the house while she did her activities — work, cooking, showering, anything.

“y’know where mama is, duke?” calum asks the little dog in front of him, getting up from his knees and making his way up the stairs, duke following behind him as he opens the door to their bedroom.

there y/n is, sitting at her desk, with her laptop and various notebooks spread out. but her laptop isn’t turned on, and it doesn’t look like she’s doing anything. she’s just sitting there.

walking towards his girlfriend, he takes notice of a suitcase placed beside her desk, he dismisses it, and greets her with a kiss on the cheek. “hey baby, how’s your day been?”

she turns her chair to face him, getting a clear look of him before she starts to speak. “you’re here early.”

“yeah, nothing to do after the sesh today.”

“hey calum, let me ask you something.”

calum should’ve known something was off the moment she called him by his first name.

“yeah, what’s up?” he responds, throwing himself onto the bed and getting into a comfy position.

“when was the last time you actually bothered to have a conversation with me?”

“what?” he confusedly asked in response. “where is this coming from? i literally had one with you yesterday morning.”

“you said good morning to me, and proceeded to tell me that you were going to be home late. that’s not a conversation. in fact, that’s all you’ve been saying to me for the past four months.”

it's safe to say that y/n wasn't in the picture anymore.

after countless of apologies and promises from calum's side, she knew what was best for her – she knew that he was too late. so a few days after what y/n felt like the hardest, but at the same time, easiest breakup that she'd ever have to do, she gathered all her things. from the bedroom, to the bedroom, to the fucking kitchen, and left.

the fact that breaking up with him felt easy broke her heart in two.

she loved him. she loved him so fucking much. and he let her down. he disappointed her to a depth she would've never thought he would reach.

so she said her goodbyes to the fluffy little dog following her, kissing his soft head and whispering, "take care of him, okay?" with duke barking in response as she made her way towards the front door.

"goodbye, cal."

when calum came home to dead silence, he knew what had happened. doesn't mean he liked it, though.

rushing up the stairs to see an empty half of a bedroom and a cleaner, less product filled bathroom, he knew what she had done.

and there's nobody else to blame but himself.

–

and now it’s 5 am clinging to my couch

and everyone i ever knew is standing in my house

oh, i’m wondering who i’m looking for

cause you don’t go to parties anymore

i got the last five years running out my mouth

always stay too late, i should kick me out

oh, i'm wondering who i'm looking for

cause you don't go to parties anymore

describing calum as a fucking wreck was an understatement. all that man did was party, after all. but this was getting out of hand.

luke, ashton, michael, and even their fucking partners tried talking to calum to try and get him out of this excessive phase. "there's better ways to handle this," michael would tell calum when he catches him in a sober state.

"she's gone because this was all i did," calum would respond. "i have no reason to stop now."

and everyday, you would catch calum at some random los angeles party. it could be a distant mutuals, a random person's, or even his own.

sometimes it would be his own house a little too much – he couldn't handle the loneliness.

which explains calum's extreme lack of sobriety in his backyard, going on a tangent about the mistakes he's made.

the poor, unlucky guy taking a seat next to calum on the couch was not prepared for calum's behaviour.

"is she here?"

"who's here?"

"y/n, my ex."

"sorry dude. don't think so."

"we were together for five fucking years. five years and i fucked it all up. it's all my fault, and i'm never gonna get her back. i miss her so much, i'm never gonna be the same without her," calum pours his heart out to the complete stranger sat beside him, taking another swig from the bottle of tequila he was holding.

the backyard is filled with so many people, and it's almost a challenge to walk around, yet his eyes are still looking for the girl that got away, while he continues to talk about her.

luke walks over to the couch that calum and the unfamiliar person are seated on. "hey, is he bothering you?" luke asks, earning a chuckle from the guy. "nah, at least not yet. he's just been.. talking about his ex."

luke sighs, rubbing his forehead. "yeah man, i'm sorry you had to hear all that. he's been like this for way too long now, doing the same shit every night. i've had to drag him out of people's houses in the middle of the night a couple times 'cause he had no other way home."

"damn.. she really did a number on him, huh?" stranger responds, luke nodding. "i understand why she left, and i think he does too," he points to calum. "he's just having a hard time accepting it."

calum turns towards both boys sitting beside him with an upset expression plastered all over his face. "of course i'm having a hard time accepting it! it's all my fault! i drove away the only girl i'd ever been in love with and i'll never be able to get her back!" the drunk, heartbroken boy explains, finishing the last of his bottle before kicking it onto the ground, away from him.

as the early morning creeped up and his house got more and more empty, the three boys decided to stay back and help him clean up, knowing that the host himself won't be able to.

"feels like we've been cleaning forever." luke mindlessly says, checking the time. "holy shit. 5 am."

"we need to do something about this, he can't keep doing this to himself." ashton frustratedly stats, picking up what felt like the 500th solo cup on the ground.

"what's it gonna take for him to listen? we've tried so hard." michael says, gathering all the empty bottles of alcohol and throwing them into his recycling bin.

"we all know who he's gonna listen to. but i doubt that she'll ever want to speak to him again."

as the trio take a look at the man currently sprawled against the now empty couch, he begisn to stir, and slowly opens his eyes.

"this," ashton points to the situation in his backyard, "needs to fucking stop. i don't know how many times we have to tell you this."

"i know man, i know. i'm sorry. thank you for helping me clean." calum sheepishly says, now feeling embarrassed at his three best friends stand in front of him in disappointment.

"did, did she show?" calum speaks up again, the tiniest glimmer of hope laced in his voice.

"no. you should know this. she doesn't go to parties anymore."

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absolutewhore101 · 8 months

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Seeking Out Your Warmth

Pairing: Ashton Irwin x GN!Reader

Summary: you wake up in the middle of the night a little colder than usual, just to snuggle back up to ash

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 520

Minors DNI

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sleeping with Ashton was like sleeping with a radiator in the bed next to you.

Hot.

The amount of heat that radiated from him couldn’t be normal, but it couldn’t have been more comforting, either.

You tended to run cold, and the need to sleep with a fan meant you usually froze to death without several pounds of blankets on top of you. Until you had Ash, of course.

Now, just your comforter was enough to keep you warm throughout the night. As long as Ashton was wrapped around you, you never woke up cold.

Not until now.

You didn’t remember the room being this cold when you fell asleep, so you weren’t entirely sure how it seemed to have dropped nearly ten degrees in the few hours you’ve been out.

You pushed backwards, attempting to burrow further into Ashton’s chest, only to find… nothing.

He wasn’t there when you moved, so you quickly looked over your shoulder.

He was still in bed, sound asleep, just a little bit farther away from you than you appreciated. You finally had the courage to glance at the clock resting on your nightstand, afraid of what you might find.

1:57 am. Fuck that.

Without another glance, you were turning over. You scooched over to Ashton, pressing yourself into his back as you wrapped your arms around his torso, nuzzling your face into the back of his neck.

He stirred slightly, gently grabbing your hand that was resting on his stomach, before letting out a deep sigh and falling right back asleep.

It took a few minutes, but eventually, you were sound asleep again.

Ashton was the first to wake up, just to realize that you weren’t touching him in any way. Thinking that you got out of bed, he looked over his shoulder to your side, only to see you curled in on yourself.

You were obviously cold - Ashton could see you shivering from where he was - so he quickly made his way over to you. He wrapped you up in his arms, feeling you let out a content sigh as you faded into sleep again.

It wasn’t even an hour later when you began to actually wake up. Now, you weren’t cuddling up to Ashton, but he was spooning you.

Your legs were tangled together, his arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you against his chest as you felt his soft breaths hit the top of your head.

You smiled.

You tipped your head back, looking up at his tired face.

“Hi, sweets.” He smiled down at you, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

You smiled against him. “Hi, angel. How long have you been up?”

He shrugged. “Not even an hour. Just been watching you.”

You looked away from him, bashfulness immediately taking over you.

“Stop it.” You mumbled.

“Never.” He said, pressing his face into your neck and playfully nipping it, causing you to let out a laugh.

“Alright, mister, it’s too early for your antics.”

He chuckled, squeezing you one last time before rolling away from you.

“Right, then. What should we have for breakfast?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tell me your thoughts! Thank you for reading :)

#ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos x reader #x reader #ashton irwin x y/n #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin imagine

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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.

_________________________________________________

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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prettyyyboyluke · 1 year

Text

Fuck About It Later

using my sex life for this

ashton’s throat was raw when he woke up. him and y/n were screaming at each other all night, and it didn’t help that they were both stubborn. neither of them would back down, admit their wrongs, none of it. the fight started off small to begin with, y/n finally got fed up with ashton saying that he’ll do things around the house, but then never does. so, she called him out on it, and ashton didn’t like the way her attitude was when she spoke to him. y/n was rarely threatened by ashton’s voice when they would argue, she would raise her’s just to match his. everything that ashton did, y/n mirrored back to him. his tone, his body language, even hand movements. the icing on the cake was when y/n crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at ashton when he couldn’t find anything else to say.

the rest of that night, no one spoke, the entire house was silent. even though they were both furious with each other, they still went to bed together. their legs were still tangled under the sheets, but ashton wasn’t holding y/n like he normally does. and to be frank, y/n was a little sad about it, but her pride got in the way of saying anything. ashton wanted to hold her too, but his pride too got in the way.

y/n didn’t bring up their fights the next morning, mostly because she doesn’t like to feel her feelings. she’d much rather forget it and move on, and that bothered ashton. when y/n woke up in the morning, her and ashton were on complete opposite sides of the bed. she sat up slowly, looking over at ashton facing the wall, and smiled weakly. ashton heard y/n wake up, he woke up about an hour before she did. he watched her sleep for a little bit, just listening to the small snores that came from her. when he felt her start to stir awake, he turned back over and closed his eyes so y/n would think he’s still sleeping.

y/n got out of bed, checking her phone before heading to the bathroom to shower. when ashton felt y/n get up, he waited until he heard their bathroom door shut, and got up himself. he made their bed, picked up the spare clothes that didn’t make it to the hamper, and sat back on the bed until y/n got out of the shower. he knows y/n won’t bring up their fight, he doesn’t think he will either, but he’s not letting her completely off the hook.

in the shower, y/n was thinking about what her and ashton were screaming at each other. she knows she hit places that hurt, and she regrets it, truly. she pushed it to the back of her mind, and started thinking on her plans for the day. y/n had no idea if ashton would be in their bed room when she got out of the shower. normally after they fight, he’s downstairs in his office. when she finally finished rinsing out the conditioner in her hair, she stepped out, and put a towel on. she brushed her hair and put some product in it so it could get wavy.

y/n opened the door and saw ashton sitting on their bed. it shocked her. she didn’t know what to say, or if she should say anything at all. ashton just stared at her, keeping his eye contact with her. y/n was the first to tear her eyes away, feeling her cheeks heat up. she took a deep breath before speaking, “good morning.” she walked to their closet, starting to pick out clothes for the day. ashton followed her into the closet, watching her pick out her outfit. he extended his hand out for y/n to take. y/n was hesitant, but took his hand, and followed him back into their room. he took her to the edge of the bed, making her sit. he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say anything or not.

she was holding her own hands, circling her thumbs over each other. he could hear her breath pick up when they were face to face with each other. she swallows the lump in her throat, wishing she had more than a towel on. ashton grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. he gives her forehead a lingering kiss and walks into the bathroom so can shower. y/n’s confused. she doesn’t know if she should wait until ashton’s out of the shower or if she should continue to get ready for the day. she goes back and forth in her mind before deciding on waiting until ashton’s out of the shower. she’s not taking any chances of getting in trouble.

when he walks out of the bathroom, he’s a little shocked to see y/n still sitting on the bed the way he left her. she doesn’t say anything to him, she waits for him to start talking. “c’mon, get ready. we have stuff to do today.” ashton finally says, his voice sounding raspy.

ashton and y/n ran their errands. ashton still had his hand on her thigh, and y/n still played with his fingers. all she was thinking about was their morning. she kept racking her brain about what ashton was going to do, if he was going to do anything, she had no idea. part of her wants to bring it up, but the other part of her doesn’t. there wasn’t much conversing between them. “have you asked paula how her finals went?” ashton asks, breaking the silence.

y/n looks over to ashton, his eyes still focused on the road. “yeah, she said that her stats one was easy, she feels okay about anthropology, and she still has her biology final.” y/n answers. ashton hums at her response. y/n has an uneasy feeling in her stomach that she can’t shake, so, she finally swallows her pride and begins to bring up their fight. “can we talk about-“ she begins to say but ashton cuts her off.

“no. you don’t seem to like it when we talk.” ashton says curtly. y/n knows ashton’s right, she just can’t help thinking about what happened in the morning still. “we can fuck about it later.” he says. y/n whips her head to look at ashton. he’s completely unfazed about the comment he just made. his hand starts squeezing the inside of her thigh, causing y/n’s reaction to close her legs. she relaxes them a minute after ashton softens his grip. the butterflies that were once in her stomach moved down to her pussy. she can feel the wetness in her panties begin to pool.

ashton moves his hand further up her thigh, happy that she wore a dress today, he let his pinky trace pattens dangerously close to her pussy. y/n puts her hand over ashton’s, guiding him further up her thigh. once he reaches her clothed pussy, he pushes a finger against her clit. y/n lets out a small breath, moving her hips the slightest bit against his finger. ashton keeps his eyes on the road while he moves his finger slowly against y/n’s clit. as soon as her breath begins to pick up, they pull up to their driveway. ashton moves her panties to the side, sliding his middle and ring finger between her folds. “god you’re wet,” he whispers to her.

y/n turns her head to look at ashton, her eyes are soft and her lips are in a small pout. “don’t give me that look, i have half the mind to punish you right now.” ashton says to her. he pushes his fingers into her pussy, watching as she shutters. her thighs freeze and her hands are in fists at her sides. ashton’s watching his fingers move in and out of y/n. her head leans against the head rest, and she closes her eyes. “oh, you’re not gonna cum yet. nice girls get to cum, and you doll, haven’t been very nice.” ashton says, referring to their fight.

he takes his fingers out of her pussy, licking them clean, and getting out of the car. y/n follows ashton inside quickly. ashton puts everything away that they bought before heading to their bed room. “are you scared, doll?” ashton asks once he sees her looking everywhere but at him. she shakes her head no, but they both know she’s lying. y/n wasn’t scared ofashton, she was scared about what he could do to her. “take the dress off, and sit on the bed.” he tells her.

y/n wastes no time and takes her dress off. she sits on the edge of the bed, watching ashton undress himself. he leans down to face her, leaning on his hands that are on the edge of the bed. y/n leans back, flickering her eyes between ashton’s lips and his eyes. ashton brushed her hair off her shoulders, looking down at her breasts. the dress she chose didn’t make her wear one. ashton caressed her cheek, pulling her in so her mouth could meet his. he nipped at her lips before kissing her softly and desperately. his other hand slid across her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers.

ashton pulled away, dragging his thumb against her bottom lip and letting it bounce back into place. y/n moved further up the bed so ashton could tower over her. she spread her legs for him, allowing his hips to fit between them. y/n leaned her head up to kiss ashton again, and began moving her hips into him. he groaned into the kiss and pushed his cock harder against her. y/n drags her hand slowly down ashton’s stomach until it met the spot where they were connected. she snaps the waist band of his boxers, pushing them down as far as she can.

they both break the kiss, ashton taking off his boxers along with y/n’s panties. he lets his cock slide between her folds, feeling how much wetter she was. they’re both rolling their hips into each other, whines filling the room. ashton takes his cock and pushes into y/n. her head falls back, feeling ashton stretch her walls. ashton slowly begins to move his hips once he feels y/n relax around him. she looks up at him, grabs his face, and brings him down for another kiss. y/n smiles into the kiss when she feels ashton in her stomach.

“i’m filling you up so perfectly, doll.” his fingers skated over her clit, and she bit down on his bottom lip as her legs began to shake. “you need me? you need me to fuck you until you’re unable to move without remembering me inside of you?” he says to her, picking up his pace. y/n nods her head harshly, letting her head fall completely into the pillows.

“yes! it feels so good,” she moans. her body began to tense up embarrassingly fast. “oh god, please don’t stop,” she whispers. ashton grabs her hips, moving her up and down his cock. y/n can feel her orgasm approach her, but she isn’t sure if ashton is going to let her cum. “i-i’m almost there, fuck,” she moans. ashton keeps his same pace, maybe thrusting harder once or twice to see her back arch.

he knows when y/n’s about to cum, but he has no intent in letting her cum this early. he brings her hips all the way down so her clit brushes against his pelvic bone. he holds her there, his grip on her hips getting stronger. “i’m not letting you cum just yet, you have a long way to go, doll. if you want it, you’re gonna have to work for it.” ashton rasps. y/n groans and starts to roll her hips into ashton. he guides her, picking her up a few times to thrust up into her.

“please, let me cum!” y/n begs, keeping the motion of her hips continuous.

ashton shakes his head, “not yet, baby.” he slips his cock out of her and starts to lay back on the bed. “c’mon, i want you to show me how you use that mouth, without yelling at me.” he tells her. y/n wants to roll her eyes and sigh heavily, but she knows that that’ll put ashton over the edge. she sits up, still looking at him with soft eyes, and takes his cock in her hand.

he grabs her hair and puts it in a make shift pony tail. once y/n’s lips are around the tip of his cock, he slowly guides her head up and down. she hollows her cheeks, letting her tongue lick the underside of his cock. ashton throws his head back, still guiding y/n’s head. she brings his cock all the way to the back of her throat until she gags, letting her spit coat him.

“god, your mouth feels so good, doll. i like it better when it’s filled like this.” he tells her. he lets himself get close to releasing in her mouth, but stops himself. y/n takes her mouth off of him, keeping her hand moving up and down his cock. “get back on my cock, i need to be inside you,” he rushes out, pulling y/n on top of him. he turns her around so he can’t see her face.

ashton grabs her wrists and brings them behind her back. she finally sinks down on his cock, whining as she does. y/n moves her hips in circles, loving how ashton felt so deep inside her. she throws her head back, arching her back as she does. ashton’s grip on her wrists didn't loosen up. y/n starts to lift her hips up down, finding her rhythm that makes her eyes close and lips smile. ashton starts to snap his hips up to meet y/n’s, gradually having y/n on her knees.

y/n wraps her hands around ashton’s forearms, digging her nails into his skin. her moans start filling up the room and the sound of skin slapping echos throughout. her back is arched as far as it can go and her legs are already shaking. “you like being fucked like this, huh? you like it when i treat you like a slut?” ashton grits, slapping her ass. she jolts forward when he does, nodding her head so fast she gets dizzy.

she starts to fall forward on the bed, her cheek flush against the duvet. now her grip on ashton’s forearms start to slip, but his never lets go. “i asked you a question, doll, i expect you to answer me,” ashton says to her. y/n can’t remember what he said to her, so she just says a meek yes. her body starts to go limp, hoping that ashton will let her cum soon.

“please, please, i wanna cum,” she whispers.

ashton can feel her pussy tighten around his cock, making him start to feel his orgasm. he groans loudly, “alright, fuck, cum for me baby, let me hear you,” he breaths.

she starts to move her wrists, trying to get out of his grip, but to no avail. “oh my god, yes!” she moans loudly. she pushes her hips towards ashton, feeling him sink further into her. “daddy, it feels so good,” she slips out. ashton throws his head back, starting to feel his cock throb inside y/n’s wet, pink walls.

“fuck, keep squeezing me like that,” he moans, stilling inside her. y/n whimpers when she feels ashton cum inside her, still feeling her orgasm come down. she’s focusing on catching her breath, she doesn’t realize ashton has slipped out of her. he brushes her hair off her shoulder, kissing it softly. “always end up being a good girl for me,” he whispers to her.

y/n smiles, opening her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek. ashton swipes it away for her. “i like it when you fuck me like that.”

#ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin preference #ashton irwin 5sos #ashton irwin #ashton #ai #5 seconds of summer smut #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer preference #5 seconds of summer #5sos smut #5sos imagine #5sos preference #5sos

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sunshine-daisies-library · 3 months

Text

starry eyed lies | ashton irwin x pop star!reader

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

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

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

word count: 11.0k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And a heart attack,” Ashton deadpanned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ash-” Calum said meekly.

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

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

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

“Hi guys,” you weakly greeted them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s up with her?” Shane asked.

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

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

“I know right?”

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

#y/nl/nisoverparty

#y/nl/nisasnake

#y/nisthebiggestbitch

#y/nl/nisOVER

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You felt your Ashton.

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

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

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

“What are you–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

please like and reblog if u enjoyed! <3

#5sos #ashton irwin x reader #5sos fic #5sos imagine #ashton irwin angst #ashton irwin #5sos fanfic #5sos fanfiction #ashton 5sos #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin imagine

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afatallovesong · 2 years

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Hewwooo:3 I was wondering if I can request a Ashton smut when it’s late and you’re asleep with him in bed and you have a lil naughty dream of him that it wakes him up and he gets alil annoyed but turns your dream into a reality but in a rough way?

Okay, you'll be glad to know, I actually kept to the request for once, hoorayyyyy

Hope you enjoy!!

Babe

An Ashton Irwin one shot

18+, Smut, NSFW

Word Count: 6512

There wasn’t a clock in your room. There never had been. For as long as he’d known you. It was just one of those sounds that grated on you no matter what time of day it was. In fact, you couldn’t stand any repetitive noises. The clicking of a pen lid, the tapping of fingers on a desk, it got to you, tickled you in an uncomfortable way. Your bedroom had to be a silent sanctuary, had to. You’d so often find yourself chasing sleep, unable to catch a single wink if there was nothing short of dead silence enveloping you.

Ashton had found it strange at first, unsettling really. It was one thing he never thought he’d be able to be on board with. He never thought you two would ever work with this sound barrier between you, but he fell hard anyway. He’d dwell in the quiet life if that’s what it took to be yours and he so desperately loved being yours.

He was partial to white noise. The waves on a shore, the light humming of traffic, birds singing outside, just soft, and subtle sounds to lull him into relaxation. Being a percussionist, it felt abnormal to be in complete silence. One time he actually panicked he may have gone deaf due to the conditions in your room. He could mostly blame his exhaustion for that scenario popping into his head, but it still freaked him out every now and then if he forgot.

It didn’t come without some advantages. It made him more sensitive to sounds and movements. It made him more perceptive of you and your routines. If he couldn’t catch any sleep, he’d lay there, waiting, hoping, trying to find something to send him away. He listened to music quite often. It was the most natural release he had. He’d lay and watch you, twisted onto your side, curled into a foetal position (you always ended up there eventually). He’d watch your form rise and fall on the mattress with each breath. He’d smile at how peaceful you’d seemed. He’d thank his lucky stars for bringing you into his life and then he’d listen to song after song until he joined you in slumber. Tonight, wasn’t going to be that easy.

He'd done his stages, he’d watched you drop into your routine, curling over, hugging your knees tight. He’d put his earphones in, picked a meditational track to try and soothe him. He’d been on the road for the last few months, so used to the engine of the tour bus or the movements of the other guys in their bunks to accompany him and rock him to sleep. It was difficult to adjust back to your silence. The tracks had helped him, they started noisily, a mixture of sounds to illustrate busyness in the environment. They died down, lessening, focusing on particularly calming vibrations. As the sounds condensed, his consciousness began to feel like it was slipping away. His breathing became deeper. His arms felt heavy. He was drifting away into his own wonderful mind. Almost in bliss.

He felt movements on the mattress. Beside him your body felt like it had dipped deeper before you shuffled back and forth back over to your side. He continued to focus on sleeping, he still felt ready to drop. Your movements subsided. He decided you were just adjusting yourself, getting more comfortable. He couldn’t blame you for that. He settled down again. Just a few breathing exercises would get him there. Breathe in. Hold for four. Breathe out. Hold for four. You moved again, backside nudging into his thigh. His eyes remain closed, his fingers start to twitch at his side with agitation and possibly sexual frustration, sharing a bed with you again after so long away definitely did things to him out of his control.

Next track. He needed to start again. He needed to repeat the process from scratch. Loud noise filled his ears again. He tries to still himself, but with your newly restless body shuffling beside him, he’s beginning to lose it. He starts tapping the bed on either side of his legs. Just slow beats drumming into the sheets. He’s still committing to his breathing exercises. You bump into him again only this time he swears you mutter as you do it. He keeps his earphones in but begins to listen out for you over the volume.

You’re mumbling. He wonders if you’re having a nightmare. If that’s why you can’t sleep in one set position. It was unusual for you to be so fidgety otherwise. He aches at the thought of you scared. He’d dive into your subconscious and protect you from your demons if he could. He wonders if he can soothe you from here, let you know he’s got you, that you’re safe. Your body stills as he thinks of it. Perhaps you’d made it out without him. He was alone once again.

You were still for a few more minutes. He’d been surrounded by the sweet sounds of the coast, sand crunching beneath footsteps, water washing over the shore, birds singing overhead as they flew. He was sinking. He was so close. He takes deeper breaths, mouth parting beyond his control. He starts to picture things in his mind, nothing that made sense, just images, colours, and shapes it would take hours to decipher the meaning of. It’s pretty, its bright and it’s so him. He’s so light, he’s weightless, floating away and- fuck. You made the strangest sound.

He removes his left earphone to see if you make it again. Nothing comes from you. Perhaps his own mind was playing tricks on him, keeping him awake as some kind of special torture created just for him. He definitely heard something. He swears it. There! You’re humming, almost whining. Your body shuffles a little. You’d left your ball of comfort, instead you lay on your side, one leg straight, the other bent on top of it.

He rolls onto his side now abandoning both earphones to focus his attention on you. He doesn’t reach out, doesn’t try to touch you. He just watches you. You seem peaceful enough. You were moving. You were rocking, sort of. He couldn’t find a better way to describe it. You were in motion, as if you were trying to get somewhere without ever really going. You huffed and sighed. It seemed like you were frustrated. He decided you could be stressed. Work had been hectic on both of your ends. You could just be tackling your problems in your sleep. He wasn’t sure. He wanted to help though.

He strokes over your back silently. He expects a reaction from you. He’s not sure what exactly, but something. You were well and truly, fast asleep. You continue your shuffling. He decides he may as well keep attempting to soothe you. It’s not as if he had anything better to do. He’d abandoned the idea of sleeping all together. If it happened later on then so be it but for now, all eyes were on you.

He swears your whines were getting louder. They were fewer and farther between. When they did appear, you were clear as day. He’d be lying if his attraction earlier in the night hadn’t crept back up on him again. He was rock solid, much against his will he thought. But then you moaned. You moaned his name. It was so sweet, so intoxicating. He thought he’d hallucinated. His eyes nearly bugged out of his skull. His hand dropped from your back. He waited for another. “Ash.” He held his breath. You weren’t having a nightmare, no, far from it. You were having a dream. A sweet like sugar, dripping with honey, sex dream. He’d never felt pride like it.

He thought about waking you. Even with the realisation that you were just as hot for him as he was for you, it didn’t feel right to purposefully stir you. He instead opted for sliding in closer behind you. He threw an arm around your waist. He buried his face in your hair and he held you. He held you closely into his chest. He just hugged you to him. The time for your shuffling was over. You’d leant back into him. You’d accepted his touch. It was as if he’d answered your prayers and given you what you needed unintentionally. He might have been slightly disappointed that all you wanted was a cuddle. He still wouldn’t say he didn’t love that. He did. He loved that you were needy for his closeness even in slumber.

“Ash.” You call. It’s quiet. It’s above a whisper but just barely. He wants to respond. He’s not sure if you’re sleep talking once more. “Ash.” You whisper it again. He kisses your shoulder to alert you he was there; he was with you. “You okay?” He chuckles into your skin, kissing you again. He wants to smother you in kisses. An appreciation. “I’m good, how are you?” He decides to do it. He litters the top of your spine, the tops of your shoulders. “I’m okay.” Your breath hitches as his kisses wander. “What you dreamin about?” You blush, he can’t see you, but you still blush. “You.”

He smirks into your skin. The blood is running straight between his legs. “Wondered what you were doing.” He begins his affections again. You shudder under the warmth of him. “Did I wake you?” Your breath is still shaky. “That would imply I slept at all.” He sucks a kiss into your left shoulder. “Which I haven’t quite managed.” You felt guilt. “It’s not your fault.” He adds, answering your thought. “So tired I’m not tired at all, you know?” You did. You knew it all too well. If you hadn’t been prescribed sleeping medication in the last year you don’t know where you’d be. Exhausted in a hole somewhere, was that too dramatic to imagine?

“Can I help?” You turn your face slightly. You try to catch a glimpse of him even if it hurts your neck to chase the idea. “I don’t know, can you?” You roll your eyes instinctively. He takes a bold step. He nudges your thighs, you separate them without question, allowing his knee to slot between them. He presses his leg right against your cotton clad cunt. You’re embarrassed at how wet you’d been. “I think I can help you though.” He rocks his leg torturously slowly over your pants. You don’t dare to fight the urge to grind down onto him.

He laughs a breathy chuckle over your neck. “Tell me about your dream.” You want to curl up and hide. You found it mortifying. You didn’t want to confess. You knew he’d never judge you. He never had. It still felt like this was something too personal. The inner workings of your mind. They were inner workings for a reason. “Come on, don’t be shy.” His leg switched pace. His hands grip onto your hips, burrowing into the thick flesh of them. He’s pulling you down onto him. You’re meeting his thigh, bouncing almost. You gasp, pussy clenching for something he hadn’t yet provided. “Tell me baby.” He nips your earlobe, and you lose it.

“Just you, you coming home, fucking me.” He gathered that much already. “That’s what got you all restless and rutting in your sleep.” He digs his fingers deeper, in a way that hurt, but a way that you’d begged for before. “Why don’t I believe you?” You bite down on your bottom lip as the heat pools between your legs. There was something so dangerous about the situation. You withholding information could lead to all kinds of punishment. Your pussy was drenched with your anticipation.

“I could stop. Let you go back to your dream; you liked me there.” You huff. “You’d really stop.” He hears the sadness in your tone, and he’s glad it’s there. “If you can’t be honest with me, how can I give you what you need?” You think about it but not for too long. You lean your head back, neck stretching, beckoning his lips to latch onto it. He does as he assumes you want. He attaches his teeth just below a vein pumping away.

“You fuck me everywhere. Every room. You just don’t stop. Say you missed me so much.” He’s humming with contentment at your words. “God, like a feral animal or something.” He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. “I loved it, Ash I need it. Need it like that.” He’s stirring from your words. He’s rocking his pelvis as well as his thigh. Shit. “You fucked me on the couch. Sat back and watched me ride you. Said you missed the way I wrapped around you.” He’s letting his hands wander, encouraging your words, drawing them from within. “You choked me.” Nothing new to him there. “Said you wanted to taste me.” This all seemed so normal. He retreats from you. “No, no please.”

He sighs. “Why do I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me?” He doesn’t limit his hips, or his thigh moving. He just refuses to kiss you until you spit it out. “You wanted to cum in me. You needed to.” He felt his cock twitch at the thought of it. He never tired of filling you, didn’t suppose he ever would. “You said you wanted to taste it, Ash.” You start to grind down desperately onto his thigh. He realises just how close you were from sputtering your secrets. His mouth parts, jaw going slack. “Taste you.” He repeats. You nod quickly. You’re chasing your orgasm and he’s in slow motion processing your words. “You cum in me and you beg for a taste.” You groan.

Ash doesn’t think about his next move. He just does it. He’s sliding away from you. He’s standing from his side of the bed and he’s walking to the door. You’re panicking. Your chest is tightening, and you feel like you might cry. You were scared. He’d forced it out of you, and he’d left you upon hearing it. You pull yourself into a sitting position, eyes fixating on the wooden panels that line your bedroom. “Living room, now.” He orders. Your head snaps into the direction of the door. You choke on air.

You scramble out of your bedroom. You run down the hall faster than a kid on Christmas morning. When you reach the living room he’s seated on the sofa, thighs spread, hands tapping into them with impatience. You walk over to him, not seductively nor confidently. You were too timid for that. Your teeth had been tucked away into your bottom lip so deep you tasted the metallic flavouring of blood. “You take all that time and don’t even have the decency to remove your panties.”

He's pulling you in by the hips. He’s looking up at you, chin resting just above the lining of your underwear. Your fingers tuck themselves into his hair. You couldn’t have loved him more. He thinks the same. Looking up at you, the light around your head pronouncing you as some kind of angel. You were more than that, to him you were far more.

His fingers start to shift the thin fabric separating you. You don’t speak as he removes it. You just watch him. He slides them effortlessly down your thighs and he kisses you every now and again. He gives into his temptations, and he showers you in his love. “Gonna make your dreams come true.” He prods your calf, alerting you to lift your leg to step out of your underwear. “Yeah?” He laughs. Why is he always laughing? Everything was so damn amusing to him. “If it gets you that worked up-“he jolts your body into him and you take the warning to sit, knees sliding on either side of his thighs. “I need to see what all the hype is about hmm.”

You’re stood on your knees, breasts just before his face. He doesn’t let his eyes drop to them even once. He’s so focused on your eyes, so present and in the moment with you. “Want me?” You whine at it. “Need you.” You lower your face to kiss him. Your breasts bump into his chest as your bodies meet. He’s sighing into your lips, arms wrapping around you, pulling you down onto his lap. You’d not realised how perfectly lined up you had been until he slipped inside of you within a moment.

You surge forward even more. Your kiss rough on his lips. He’s devouring you. You’re the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted, and he’d be lying if he didn’t accept that as an addiction because that’s what you were to him, an inescapable feeling, a drug, he was endlessly begging to be prescribed. “Fuck.” You breathe over his lips. “You’re soaking me.” His nose brushes against your own. “You complaining?” He pulls your hair, your neck tilting all the way back. “Don’t forget your place.” You clench down on him and he smirks. “Pussy knows who you belong to so why don’t you.” You’re shuddering at his words.

He brings his lips to yours as his hands lower. Your stomach flutters as his rough fingers skim over you on their path down to your throbbing clit. “You feel close.” He mutters. You nod. His gentle touch just above your clit sends you mad. He was doing it on purpose. “Just can’t seem to find it.” He rubs another portion of you, and you whimper. “You’re horrible.” He reaches it and you gasp. “Ahh, there she is.” You fasten your lips on his, tired of his teasing when you’re aching for a release. You’d known you were hot, known you’d been horny, but this was frantic. This was pathetic. You felt like you would have died if he hadn’t given himself to you. Maybe you would have. You’re glad you didn’t have to find out.

“Gonna cum.” You tear away from his lips to warn him. He’s grinning. He’s surprised, you’d never finished this fast. He was so pleased you were going to. He couldn’t claim it as entirely his doing, but he wouldn’t dare tell you that. He was going to own it, to own you and he was going to cum. His cock had been teetering on the edge of bliss since the moment your ass brushed his thigh accidentally.

“Give it to me.” He starts thrusting upwards from beneath you. “Come on.” He’s pulling you in. You’re almost there. Just a few more strokes. Just a few more bites of his fingernails into your hips and you’re spilling over. You’re crashing around him. “Oh god, oh fuck.” He’s cumming. He couldn’t handle it. The moment you tightened around his length he was a goner. He’s fastening his lips around your breast. Your nipple slotted between his teeth, pinching it, aiding your release. You were shaking. You’d felt so much and all at once. His teeth, what was he doing to you? You felt so light, so unreal. You weren’t even here in the room.

Your lap sinks down eventually, ass sitting comfortably on his thighs allowing you to catch a much-needed breath. He fastens his arms tightly around your waist, surging your body forward to capture your lips as if he’d been away from you for far too long. You’re panting into each other. He kisses you with an astonishing vigour despite the exhaustion washing over the both of you, the sleeplessness. Its only seconds before your tongue is back in his mouth, hands wrapped in his locks just like they had been before. His cock twitches ecstatically inside of you, still deep and leaking his arousal into you. He shocks you, lifting his lap, rotating you along with his knees, left towards the rest of the couch. You panic at the shift, not even the action itself. With a quick motion he’s lifting, cock nearly slipping from you entirely.

“Don’t, I’ll make a mess.” He wants to smirk and provide a proud “Yes you will.” But he fights the urge. You felt him leaking from you, it was only a matter of time before the mixture of your finishes were staining the couch beneath you. This is it; you think. He’d going to do it. He’s going to taste. He pushes you onto your back with a huff, bodies still tangled, cock still firm within you. “No, no baby.” He coos. He kneels between your legs, chest pressed to yours, eyes looking down between you both to your connected state that he’d managed to keep. “Cause you’re going to fucking keep it inside of you.” If you could do anything but moan, you don’t even think you would.

He brushes a gentle finger across your clit to accompany his words, your pelvis reacts, lifting into him, needily humping at him. He drops his mouth into a little “o.” Deep down he wasn’t surprised, you had always been desperate for him, even if you fought it, but he didn’t need you to know that. “Still sensitive.” You want to whimper; you suspect you may have. “Bucking your hips for me.” He observed. His knack for noticing even your most disguised form of pleasure taking had always gotten on your nerves. There was no surprising him, he was far too intelligent and in tune with your reactions to let an action like that go unnoticed. He tuts. “Still hard for you.” He laughs, his own hips rocking. Is that why he hadn’t moved yet?

“Feel it?” You nod. “Yeah?” He’d have liked words, words were always better than glances or pathetic shakes of your head, but you were so worn out, you’d done so well, and he was so proud of you, but your job just wasn’t done. “Want me to use you? Make it go away.” It was never what you intended but you weren’t upset. You nod more, pouting your lips for some kind of pity from him, any kind. “You want a kiss?” He cups your face in his hand. His fingers stroke over your tear-stained cheek. It wasn’t a terrible thing to find the dampness there. He knew he hadn’t pushed too far, knew he hadn’t hurt you, because he never would, and even if he had by some form of accident, you’d have told him. You instead cried from frustration and then more so for release. An orgasm you’d worked too hard for, held for so long and then finally on his commands you were elated to be granted it. So euphoric that you’d cried with joy.

“Maybe you should make me cum first. Since this whole thing was your idea and you dragged me into it.” He toys with the idea in his mind. You’d tantrum if he did it. Which would have been a hindrance if it didn’t result in some kind of punishment, he quite enjoyed the idea of giving. You hadn’t misbehaved in so long he was starting to worry that he hadn’t corrupted you as much as he’d been bragging about to his friends. On the other hand, you were so good for him recently, it would be fair to give you what you need, while he takes what he needs, and he could be fair. Choices, choices. Your lips were just there, so plump, swollen from his kiss already. “Fuck, you know you always get a kiss.”

He leans into you, his nose slots neatly beside yours, head tilting to glide his lips over your own. You release all of the tensions in your body, drowning in the sofa and his love. You give yourself over to him. A kiss with him was all you’d ever needed; you’d give your life for another if the occasion was ever there. He enjoys it too, just as much, if not more. He wanders back to the thought of you around him though, your tongue slipping into his mouth not as distracting as it usually was. Of course, he’s not usually inside of you for this long, never warms himself inside your wetness in this way and my God, you are so wet. You’re dripping.

Your mixed juices almost unbearable to contain. Even with a mesmerising kiss such as this, he found it nearly impossible to act as if he wasn’t enjoying the feeling of you. You’d ruined your couch, there was no doubt in your mind or his, about that. He felt bad, sure, but not enough for him to stop. Couch be damned, he thought. He could buy you a new one if it didn’t clean well enough, God knows he already built you a new bed after cracking the last one. It was an investment at this point, the use it would have. He may as well make the most of you now the damage was done, waste not, want not, just imagine it being sexier.

His hips pistol into you, skin slapping yours, the noise echoing through the living room just the way you liked it. You’re no longer a tight glove fixed around him, you’re instead just a wet hole, filled to the brim with him. You’re something he can ram into, no concern for the stretch, for the potential pain of his first thrust. He wished he had the stamina to do this more often. To take you like this. Your tightness over his cock was his weakness but this, this was just divine. The promise of your pleasure and the wetness of your orgasm had given him such a high level of satisfaction that you may as well have ruined sex for him for the rest of his life. This is what it means to make love, this is how good it feels.

“Fuck, so fucking good.” You mutter, tears forming again out of your control. “Say it again, tell me how good it is.” He latches his teeth onto your shoulder, hands kneading your ass, pulling you up from the cushions, allowing him to drive into you deeper. You’re melting under the intensity, and he knows it but it’s just too good, you’re too good. He feels like if he didn’t communicate it, didn’t run it by you, then he wasn’t doing it right. He needed you, your tone, your moans, your tears. “Fuck me so good. Use me like I’m nothing.”

He wants to roll his eyes with pleasure, you were so fucked out and still you knew the right words to say. You were stirring him in a way that only you could. “Not nothing baby, you’re not nothing.” You were fucking everything. He’d tell you if he wasn’t so pent up. He mumbles, shaking his head to focus on his cock, its sensitivity inside your slick cunt. “Best fucking pussy.” He’d be more romantic, but he didn’t have it in him. He wants to cry. You clench around him, and he wants to fucking cry.

Your eyes flutter closed, his lips find yours and you gratefully litter his soft lips with as many kisses as you can muster to encompass his moans. You wanted to help him so badly. “Fuck, fuck, I’m so close.” He’s whiny and desperate. He sounds like such a little bitch, and he knows it, worries about it, but he can’t stop. You’d wrecked him. He wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t capable of holding on, pretending he had it together. He was falling apart at the seams. He was succumbing to your hold on him. You had weakened him into a needy state he’d never once imagined he’d be adept to and there was no more holding off.

“Come on, sweet boy, cum for me.” You play with his chain, fingers grasping the metal, his eyes rocketing down to your fingers. “Doing so good for me.” He lets out a huff of air, before another small wail. He’s so close, he’s hellbent on fighting it. He wants more, wants you to finish too. He knew it was too ambitious. There was no way he’d last through it. He was so disappointed in himself. “Give it to me.” You push, hoping to awaken his dominant side. It was okay to take what he wanted from you. “Give me everything.”

You can’t describe the sound he made accurately enough. It was a gut-wrenching desperation. You felt so bad for him, fighting for his finish, holding himself back, sweet boy. “Want my cum?” His eyes are soft when they look to yours. You see water pooling at his lower lash line and your heart hurt to see it. You want to reach out and tell him it’s okay, so unused to seeing him this way. This was usually a reaction shown on your own face not his.

“Yes, yes please.” You moan melodically to coax him closer. You caress his cheek with the back of your hand and his lips slip down to your wrist to place a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss there. “Say it baby please.” He wants to be demanding and strong but he’s on the brink of utter despair. “Say you want my cum, please fucking say you want it.” He’s fucking into you so erratically, so harshly. He barely maintains eye contact, your precious gaze too much for him to bear. Your heart breaks for him. “Need it Ash, need your cum, want to feel it.” You kiss him between sentences. “Want all of it, give it to me, cum in me.”

He lets out a strangulated groan as his cock pulses and leaks into you drop by drop. His eyes snap shut, his lips twitching and contorting involuntarily. He’s overcome by an ethereal bliss he’d never known before. He felt rather invincible. He thought he came hard the first time but now saw that he was entirely wrong, never been more wrong actually. “Fuck, fuck Ash, oh it feels-“he cuts you off with ease, “like fuckin heaven.” He admits. “Exactly like heaven.” You confirm as his forehead pushes to rest on your own, his face is turning subtly as he comprehends the power of the emotion wracking his body. “You’re my heaven, you know that?”

He meets your eyes. You take heavy breaths together. Your eyes transfixed on one another. There was a connection between you so strong in this moment that it felt like you were the only two people in existence. No one else had ever come close. There were never two souls more meant for each other than you and him. Shaking breaths and the thudding of hearts against your two chests had envisioned that.

Water gathers, clumping your lower lashes together. He’d wipe them dry with his thumb only he can’t take his eyes away from them long enough to move. The small pearls of tears forming before beginning their journey of sliding down your pretty cheeks. How lucky they were to touch you in such a way. He wanted them to evaporate before they had the opportunity to fall but there was just something so touching about the way you empathised with him. Crying at the sign of his finish, so deeply grateful that he had the chance to, enough to stir you into a reaction like this.

He wants to stay. He wants to live in your warmth for eternity, but he still has a job to do. He has to make your dream come true. God help him he’d thought of nothing else since you uttered it. “Gonna pull out.” He pecks your lip. “Give you what you wanted.” You’re throbbing again. How was it that you were throbbing?

He’ll admit he wasn’t turned on by the idea of the taste. He’d never been curious. He hadn’t wanted to know. It was the way you had wanted it that caught him off guard. You were the only reason he’d ever attempt something like this. That’s what he thought at first. Then his tongue lapped up the waterfall cascading from you. He cleaned up the liquid you’d leaked. You pushed your pelvis into him and suddenly he was thirsty. He was dehydrated. He was parched.

He hooked his arms under your thighs bringing you ever closer to him and he buried his tongue inside of you. He only meant to try it. He only meant to lick a little, gather the taste on his lips before bringing them back to yours to share the flavour. He couldn’t pull himself away. He wanted more. He wanted every last drop. You were moaning so loud, even over the noises of him lapping away at your shared juices, he heard your moans. “Fuck, Ash.” He was so hungry. You were going to cum again from the determined look in his eyes alone.

He never stopped. Even when he felt the warm fluids dripping from his lips, down his chin and onto the cushion beneath him, he didn’t stop. You were cumming again, your hips were jittering, twitching into his mouth. He was like a man possessed. “Too much, oh my god, fuck Ash.” Your hands were in his hair, trying to pull him away and despite him wanting to fight you on it, he withdrew himself. You stared at him bewildered. He may have looked the same, wiping his chin with the back of his hands as he sat back on his knees. “I gotta lock you down.”

He leans to kiss your lips, but you let out and exhausted laugh before he can, just missing him by an inch. “Don’t know what’s so funny.” He feigns offence all while smiling, as if he hadn’t just done what he just did. As if it hadn’t phased him. He didn’t think he cared. He chases your kiss a second time, you escape him with an intangible ease again. He sighs with annoyance before trapping your face, his thumb on one cheek the rest of his fingers on the other, stationing you in place. He kisses your pouting lips, you let your eyes roll back as you taste yourself on his mouth. It was far greater than you ever thought it would be and you weren’t too wrecked to acknowledge it. He pulls away finally before releasing you to continue speaking. You were lucky you were cute.

“As I was saying.” You roll your eyes at his persistence rather than eroticism. “Don’t give me that. Where’s this attitude coming from?" He’s mocking you and you love that; he’d flipped the switch immediately back to sweet boyfriend mode. You loved it, but he also sounds demeaning and if you were brutally honest, quite parental in the way he scolded you. You knew a blush had coated your cheeks at the realisation. You wonder if this was the only time, he’d exhibited that authority or if it was just the only time, you’d caught it. “Just made you cum twice is all, think I get a little credit.” He nods his head, but you know it’s not in agreement it’s in consideration of your case. “Think you make the rules cause your pussy can’t keep away from me.” You sure hoped you didn’t, you wanted a telling off.

You try so hard not to laugh when he speaks again. “I’m just a big joke to you hmm.” He’s in a borderline tantrum state, ready to lecture you jokingly until you behaved. If it wasn’t for the pending pout, you’d continue to push him into retaliation. You instead kiss him sweetly to soften him, but his features remain depleted. “I’m not mad, baby, just disappointed.”

You can’t fight it anymore. “You’re so fucking weird.” You nearly snort, ruining any chances of being sexy ever again. He really was acing this paternal disapproval. He’d heard that line many times in his life. He grins back, he knew he was being ridiculous, but it was too fun to stop now. It was late, you were so exhausted, but you were hit with such a pleasant come down that you’d feared you’d be awake for the next 24 hours just to enjoy this euphoria with him. This level of giddiness and goofiness that had you quickly grasping the idea that he just might be the only other person on earth who understood you.

“You’re so right, and so fucking rude at the same time. I just ate your pussy so hard, and you’re sat here laughing at me. Got me tasting my own cum because you begged and you’re mocking me. Hurts baby. Remind me why I like you.” He arches a brow as if he didn’t know the million reasons inside and out. You try something, a gentle reminder, a simplistic action. You watch his face to see if it has any affect. You clamped your hand down on him, squeezing his softening length while tangling the fingers of your spare hand in his hair. You felt him twitch and almost think he’d hardened again from it. “Yeah, you’re right.” He sighs into your neck that he now buries his face in briefly. You smile with a satisfaction money can’t buy, not even his.

“Can’t just squeeze me like that to get a win.” He pouts against your throat. “It’s all I got baby.” You stroke his hair, taming his locks albeit aimlessly considering it was practically sentient with a life form of its own bouncing it back into its previous position. “Think you got more going for you than that.” Ever the sweetheart he beams at you. “That’s probably one of your finer skills though.” You take it back; he’s a dick and you hate him. “But you do it so well.” He patronises and strings out the Ls. “Thanks babe.” You scoff. “You’re so welcome babe.” He always needed the last word. “Love you babe.” You combat. He smirks before he speaks again. “Eh, you’re alright.”

He earns a swift smack to the side of his head, you didn’t apply much force, but you suspected that even if you had, that indestructible barrier of hair would have softened the blow anyway. “Love you sooooooo much.” He pecks your lip. “Babe.” You’d always hated the word but coming from his tongue, you loved the way it sounded. “Still gonna to lock you down.” You groan, writhing beneath him as if to escape the coming monologue despite knowing you were well and truly trapped beneath him. “Make you no good for anyone else hmm.” He pins your wrists like it’s nothing. “You’re hot.” He really was. “You’re also relentless.” He resents that, even if it is the truth. “Yeah, well if I annoyed you that much you wouldn’t be dreaming bout my dick.” He had several other points to add but he felt it best to with withdraw from the argument. “You love me though, right?” He couldn’t tell if he was playing or genuinely vulnerable enough to need it said. “Of course.” You kiss him, he let out a sigh of relief. “Dream Ash anyway.”

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos imagine #5sos one shot #5sos smut #5sos ashton #5sos ashton smut #5sos ashton fic #5sos ashton irwin #ashton 5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer ashton #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin fic

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completemessash · 5 months

Text

Mistletoe (a.i.)

notes: just some xmas time fluff 🥰

Warnings: none

xxx

"Y/N", your friend Crystal poked your shoulder and you turned to look at her.

You had been watching some of your friends try to figure out a card game but Crystal took your attention with a nod towards the door that connected the living room to the entrance hall.

Ashton was standing there, leaning on the door frame with a glass of what seemed to be juice in hand.

His dirty blonde hair was illuminated by the light shining in the hall, making him look like there was a halo around him. His eyes crinkled as he also watched your friends play games, the hazel in them shimmering.

You raised your eyebrows at Crystal, trying to stay calm. God, why was he always so beautiful? He was just standing there, but he looked beautiful.

"Look at the door", Crystal whispered when you looked back at her again.

"No, higher up", she whispered when you looked at the side of the door frame that Ashton wasn't leaning on.

Higher up, right above him, was something green. Oh, absolutely not!

"Come onnn!", the tall brunette next to you gave you a light shove.

"Crystal, no", you took a step closer towards the couch, thus away from him.

"If not now then when?"

You bit your lip, knowing she was right. But you couldn't just -

"We'll say I forced you if it goes wrong"

Damn Crystal and her stupid smart ideas.

"But I -"

"Just a harmless Christmas tradition"

Your feet wouldn't budge though. Crystal kept explaining her master plan to you, while your mind was running in circles: What if someone saw? What if you tried to do it and he pulled away and you just ran into the door?

No, it was now or never, you could blame Crystal.

You took a deep breath, one last glance towards the couches to make sure no one was paying attention and before you could attempt to change your mind, you started putting one foot in front of the other.

Crystal was whisper cheering behind you and you were blushing before you even reached him.

He was intently watching your friends - Michael and Luke were currently trying to tear cards out of each other's hands - not noticing you. His tall figure loomed over you - even the underside of his jaw was beautiful.

Okay, you couldn't just stand here, waiting until he noticed you or worse, the others would.

"A- Ash?", you couldn't even get his full name out, your voice breaking on just the three letters.

You gulped when he looked at you, trying your best not to freeze under his hazel gaze. In your mind you heard Crystal cheering you on and you did it.

Pushing yourself on your tip toes to reach him, you leaned forward, almost losing your balance and falling into his chest in the process, and quickly pressed your lips against his.

Barely one or two seconds went by, then you rushed past him and down the hallway. What were you thinking? More importantly, what now?

"Ash! I spent hours - hey!", Michael was complaining loudly.

Then you heard footsteps quickly coming closer. Not good, really not good.

"Y/N", you suppressed an embarassed whimper when he called your name. He'd only said it a few times before as you always kept your distance a little.

You were ready to apologize when you turned around but the words got stuck in your throat yet again. He had that expression on his face.

The one where his eyes lit up, they were big, almost innocent, and glistening. His lips were slightly parted - you wanted to squeek from how cute he looked... or maybe faint.

He slowly took two more steps, so he was standing right in front of you and you had to lift your head again to meet his eyes. He tilted his head, not saying anything either, while his gaze slid over your face.

"Why did you rush away?"

You shrugged, averting your eyes to where your toes almost touched. Your face could've probably been used to cook eggs on when you felt his fingertips under your chin, lifting it until you looked into his eyes again.

"Sorry", you mumbled but he shook his head, his dimples indenting his cheeks when he smiled now.

"I didn't even get to feel it and you were already running off... Oh"

The sound was so badly acted, fake surprise displaying on his face paired with that cheeky grin. You followed his gaze to where he was looking at something above you.

"You're literally holding that up"

"No, I'm not", he grinned. His hand was above you, holding a clearly ripped up piece from the mistletoe in the door frame above your head.

"Sucks but what can you do", he sighed dramatically, his dimples getting deeper and deeper.

He waited until you couldn't help but smile back, then he bent down to your height, giving you enough time to pull away, but you didn't.

When his lips touched yours again and his hand carefully cupped your cheek, you felt like falling to the floor.

His lips felt raw but soft at the same time, warm and comforting. His body, the hand on your face, the other carefully tapping your own hand and intertwining your fingers - you'd never felt anything as wonderful as this.

There was nothing rushed about this kiss, time stopped for you to savour this moment.

Neither of you tried to change that or even wanted to and when you finally pulled apart, you could see the same heat you felt in your own face covering his. Ashton's cheeks were reddened, even the tip of his nose slightly blushing.

"And you couldn't have done that without ruining my expensive decorations?"

Ashton picked up the piece of mistletoe that had at some point fallen to the floor and while he threw it back at Michael, laughing when his friend kept complaining, you could see Crystal making excited gestures behind her husband.

When his fingertips danced down your wrist and linked your fingers with his, you were thankful that she had convinced you to go for it and kiss him.

xxx

xmas flufffff 💗❤️❤️💞❤️

#5sos #5sos fic #ashton irwin #5sos fanfic #5sos x reader #5sos imagine #5sos fluff #5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin x reader #y/n #completemessash #completemessash smut

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multifandomworldsposts · 7 months

Text

Day 9 of Kinktober: Car Sex with Ashton Irwin

pairing: ashton irwin x fem!reader

warning: Making out, unprotected sex, blowing

Y/N’s POV

Ashton picks me up to go out on a date with him and he recently got a new car, a Cadillac, and I’m really excited to see inside.

He drives up to my house and the car looks gorgeous and big enough to fit 5 people in it. I get in and I’m jealous on how the car looks so fucking amazing inside.

“You ready?” Ashton ask me.

“I am.” I smile.

He takes us to BOA Steakhouse with the other members of 5 Seconds of Summer and their girlfriends. A lot of us got a bunch of sea food, steak, and pasta. Some fans of us came up to talk to us and some wanted pictures of us or just 5 seconds of summer with them.

While we were eating Ashton whispers some sweet nothings in my ear.

“When we’re done here, do you want to go somewhere?”

“Where Ash?” I whisper in his ear.

“Maybe, the Overlook.” He whispers back.

The Overlook, which you can see the city view, and people can make out up there, I hope we’re actually going to see the city view.

“If you want to Ash.” I said.

“I wanna go.” He whispers again.

“We’ll go alright.” I whisper back.

After dinner Ashton and I went to the Overlook, which the city looks amazing and pretty. Ashton kisses my neck, I giggle a little bit. I kiss him back, I tug his hair.

“You wanna go in the back?” He stops kissing me and says.

"Yes," I say.

We got in the back and continued making out, he began to kiss my neck again giving me hickeys. I moan, he makes us do nose to nose.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He said.

“We have done it before.” I said.

“I know but not in a car.” He said while looking into my eyes.

I mean it’s true but I’m scared we might ruin the seats. I nod. I love him and I want him so badly.

Ashton lays me on the car seats, unzips my dress and I unbutton his dress shirt and I try to unbuckle his belt, he helps me out with it. I help him getting his boxers off, I need him now.

“You ready?” He makes sure.

“Yes. Make love to me Ash.” I said.

He kisses me again, I tug on his hair again, which made him smile in our kiss. He positions himself towards my pussy, he starts to go in and out of me slowly, I moan, I can feel him how big he is. I put my right leg around his waist, I feel him touching my leg. He goes a little faster, I gasp. He’s so good at this.

He gives me love bites on my chest, I look up to see the windows getting foggy, holy hell. I make him lay on the car seat and have him hickeys as well. The way he moans, it sounds so sexy. I start to blow him, I can feel him tugging my hair l keep going.

“Keep going baby, fuck, you’re so good at this.” Ashton says in a deep voice.

I keep on going, I feel his cum in my mouth and I keep on going up and down. He groans. God damn it, I don’t want to stop. He cums in my mouth, he tasted so good to be honest.

I lay on Ashton and I can feel his heart beating, I can tell he enjoyed that session of ours.

“That was so good Y/N/N.” He heavily breathed.

“I’m glad you liked it Ash.” I look at him.

“Liked it? I loved it.” He smiled.

“Can we do this at home not in a car?” I ask him.

“Why’s that?” He asks.

“The bed is more comfortable.” I cuddle into his chest.

“I rather do this more often.”

“Ashton.” I playfully hit him.

“If you want to, I’m not going to force you Y/N/N.”

I give him a small smile, I love him so much but I do not want to have sex in a car what so ever, it’s just not my thing to do anywhere.

“I love you Y/N.”

“In what way? like me blowing you or actually you’re in love with me on I do on a regular basis?” I question.

“On a regular basis, besides on what you just did to me, I love you so much, a lot people can see it Y/N/N.”

I kiss him, I love this man and he loves me but car sex is so uncomfortable to do in any car.

#fanfic #fanfiction #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #ashton 5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin smut #5 seconds of summer #ashton 5sos #5sos #ashton fletcher irwin #5sos fanfic #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin #5 second of summer imagines #ashton irwin 5 seconds of summer

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writersdare · 1 year

Text

Give Me Attention | Ashton Irwin

Pairing: Ashton Irwin x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Ashton and Y/N had been friends for a while. However, everything changed once she found out an unpleasant secret he thought to hide from her.

Warning: angsty, an intimate moment, a bit of cursing and mentioning of alcohol

Word Count: 2 947

Requested: yes

Author’s Note: This one was actually hard! I've been working on this one for quite a bit, and really hope you'll like the story. I'm still not sure about the whole concept, but I like to try new ideas, so I don't regret choosing this path. If you watched a film "Matthias & Maxime", you'll maybe recognise one scene from there. Besides phrases from the requested prompt list I also used another, quite a known one. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts! Thank you for your patience on this one ♡

Friday was supposed to be for parties or at least for something fun. However, Y/N had her own meaning of fun, and Ashton did not exactly like it.

“You do realise I’m not a plumber?” the guy was lying on a floor, head inside a kitchen counter, where pipes of a sink were.

“I believe in you,” Y/N smiled, changing a wet towel to a dry one. “Besides, you’re almost done, don’t complain,” she giggled and stepped back, taking a moment to appreciate Ashton’s naked back. “You’re so sweaty.”

“Oh yeah?” he mumbled, puffing loudly, while he was trying to screw the pipe. “Next time you’ll clean it yourself and I’ll look at you.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, but couldn’t hold a giggle again. The guy was slightly mad and salty, she knew, though, he was just tired. It was a late evening, and Ashton was her lifesaver, as no one agreed to drive at such time and fix the pipe. It wasn’t even a big deal, it just clogged up! Well, perhaps, “just” was a wrong word, as Ash had a hell of a night. A drummer of one of the most popular bands in the world was cleaning a freaking sink…

“You’re the best, Ash,” Y/N said, smiling, and filled a kettle with water before heating it on a stove.

“Hell yeah, I am,” Ash chuckled and carefully stood up, being on all fours at first, as he was afraid to hit his head. That would be a dramatic end of the night, truly. “It should work now,” he sighed and turned on a faucet. The water flowed down easily and finally didn’t end up on the floor.

“Thank you so much! Really! I’d hug you, but—“

“I’m sweaty, yeah, I got it,” Ash smirked and took his own white shirt on a chair to wipe his body a bit. “I’m gonna take a shower, alright? You better get me something stronger than tea,” he warned, seeing two cups on a table.

“Alright,” the girl chuckled and stood up to check if she had something on a shelf.

Y/N and Ashton knew each other for a while. In fact, she was a good friend of all four guys from the band. Ash lived closer to her place, so it was rather natural to spend evenings together occasionally.

Rather quickly the girl reconciled with her romantic feelings towards Ashton. They were just there, for him, it was stupid to deny. However, Ash always treated her like a friend, and Y/N didn’t even dare to make a step or give a little hint. It wasn’t like she suffered from low self-esteem; no, that was in the past. The girl just preferred to call herself a realist. Ashton and Y/N were as if from different worlds. His working schedule was a total mess, his relationships were, maybe, even crazier. Y/N knew if something more had ever happened to them, she could not stand unseriousness. The feelings were too strong, and they’d grow stronger, if they were a thing. It was just smarter to have Ash as a friend to avoid a risk of loosing him eventually.

“Feeling better?” she smiled, when Ashton came back to the kitchen. He wasn’t wearing a t-shirt, and drops of water were still noticeable on his chest. “How is this disease called? When a person leaves a shower without a proper use of a towel?” Y/N smirked, trying not to stare at Ash too much.

“Oh, c’mon, are you shy?” the musician chuckled, and she hated, when he was getting a bit spicy with her.

Y/N only grinned and gave Ashton a glass of Martini, when he set down next to her.

“Well-deserved,” the girl joked.

“Thank you. And yes, I’m feeling better. But do you know how I’d feel even better? If you didn’t call me in the middle of the night to fix your pipe.”

Y/N rolled the eyes, and the guy giggled, quickly leaving a kiss on the cheek. Ash smelled like her showering gel; slight alcohol notes hit the nose, too.

“I’m only joking. You know you can call me any time,” he smiled.

“It’s not that late anyway,” Y/N mumbled, but grinned back. They enjoyed teasing each other, no one was offended there. However, when Ashton’s phone ringed, the girl got slightly upset. Who could call him at twelve p.m.?

“Oh, sorry, I gotta take this,” Ash stood up. “It’s Cassy, I’ll be in a minute.”

“Cassy? Not sure if I know who it is.”

“My girlfriend,” the guy said it so easily as if he just announced the weather forecast for tomorrow. “Oh, shit, I forgot! I met her in a bar a week ago, didn’t I tell you? I’ll be back,” Ash rushed up to the living room.

Y/N’s heart dropped, and a smile was wiped from her face completely. A girlfriend then? Who he met just a week ago? That was new. At that moment the girl started to feel uncomfortable for asking him to come over to help. Perhaps, she wasn’t allowed to do so any longer, as he was in damn relationship. And what kind of friends they were, if Ashton didn’t even tell her such news?

“Sorry,” Ash smiled, coming back to the kitchen quite quickly. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Y/N smiled back, making a sip from her glass. “Listen, I didn’t know you were dating someone, I’m sorry I called you–“

“What? No-no, what are you talking about?” he outraged softly. “I told you, you can call whenever you need me.”

“I don’t think it’s right anymore, you have a girlfriend, Ash, you shouldn’t be at my place,” she shook a head, struggling to hide how upset she was. Well, the girl tried, but all her strength was as if drained by the recent news.

“Y/N, we are friends,” Ashton stared at her eyes with his grass green. The phrase was so simple, and yet it hurt so much. The truth was painful. “So, it doesn’t matter. I still can come over and can stay at your place tonight,” he smiled cheerfully, but the girl shook a head again.

“No, I think you should spend the night at your place. It’s not that far from here anyway,” the girl whispered and emptied her glass.

Maybe she wasn’t right. Maybe it was stupid to behave like that and demand Ashton to come back to his place. Y/N wasn’t exactly sad he got a girlfriend – after all, that happened before, too – she was just upset Ash didn’t tell her right away. It seemed he didn’t even plan to. If not the call, who knew for how long the girl would stay oblivious?

"You can’t skip my birthday party, Y/N," Calum mumbled, sitting on a couch in a music studio the other day. Y/N was sitting next to him, resting a head on a back of the couch. When the girl confessed that she probably wouldn’t be able to attend the party, Cal didn’t even look surprised – it was just out of discussion, she was coming. So, the musician kept his eyes on a phone screen, trying to complete a level in some silly game. "What’s the matter anyway? You don’t want to get me a present, do you?" he chuckled, joking.

"It’s not that," Y/N sighed and turned her head towards the friend. Ashton wasn’t in the studio that day, and being honest, it was for the best, as their relationship wasn’t great since the guy announced he had a girlfriend. They didn’t talk about it, pretended they were fine, but hung out less – never alone, only with the rest of the band. It was hard to tell what was in Ashton’s mind, and why he just couldn’t tell the truth from the beginning. It had been three weeks, and they still didn’t figure it out. Y/N felt extremely stupid, she needed to let the things go, it wasn’t a big deal anyway. She just couldn’t understand why it still bothered her so much. And was his new girlfriend that special that he didn’t want to introduce to her? It was ridiculous.

"What is it then?" Calum stayed calm, his voice sounded even slightly indifferent, however, Y/N knew he cared.

The girl hesitated, feeling rather unsure if she needed to raise that topic. Although she was the one who started it, saying she wouldn’t be at Calum’s party, so perhaps, there was no way out.

"Is Ashton’s girlfriend gonna be there?"

"Why would she be there?" Cal finally put the phone away. He was quite amused by the question.

"Well, cause she’s his girlfriend," Y/N chuckled, finding his answer quite annoying.

Calum turned his full body towards the girl and stared at her.

"Wait… He didn’t tell you? They have a contract, it’s a PR relationship."

"What?…" Y/N gasped. When did they end up in that stage of their friendship where Ash stopped telling her anything about his life? The girl felt ashamed. She certainly didn’t enjoy looking stupid in front of Cal, however, the guy knew much more than both of his delusional friends did.

After being angry for a while, Y/N came to conclusion that she needed to stop thinking about Ashton that much. Clearly, he didn’t care about her or their friendship anymore, so why should she? It all felt quite childish, but the girl was sure that the main kid in their situation was Ash. Even when it was her, who ended up dancing with different guys up all night at Calum’s birthday party, ignoring the friend completely.

"She drives me insane," he growled, staring at Y/N, who was cuddling a random dude and moving her hips to the tempo of music. How wasn’t she still tired?

"To be fair, you did lie about your relationship," Calum chuckled, glancing at the mutual friend and making a sip from his glass.

"I had my reasons," Ash mumbled annoyingly, not being able to take the eyes off her even for a slight second.

"And she has her own," Michael commented, resting a hand on the friend’s shoulder. However, Ash shook it off rashly and hurried up to approach Y/N, when noticed the "dude’s" palm going down her waist.

"Don’t do anything stupid!" Luke begged, but Ashton didn’t hear him.

"Hey, Y/N, I need to talk to you," his whole body was tense. The musician wasn’t looking at the guy and was only staring at Y/N’s eyes.

"We kinda busy, man," the stranger made a step forward, and Ashton placed the hand on his chest quickly, pushing the cause of his bad mood aside. Ash grabbed Y/N’s wrist gently, but persistently, and pulled her from one room to another, where no one could bother them.

Calum moved to that apartment just recently, so some places were still on renovation, just like the guest room they appeared in. It was almost empty except for few old closets and kitchen counters, which, apparently, were left by the previous owners. It smelled like dust and damp, nothing pleasant.

"What the hell?" Y/N outraged, once Ashton shut the door behind them. "I was having a good time!"

"Yeah? Well, I had a shitty time!" the guy snapped at her and touched his face with a palm, standing in front of Y/N. "Shit, I… What the hell is going on, really? You’re ignoring me, hanging out with some pricks instead!"

"You don’t answer my questions, why should I answer yours?!"

"I got jealous, alright?!" Ash spilled out before thinking, and his voice became softer immediately. "And I know, I’m not allowed to be jealous, you aren’t even mine."

The phrase was absurd to Y/N. Wasn’t he the one who had a girlfriend? It didn’t already matter if it was a fake one. The girl set on a counter that was covered with some plastic tape, and shook her head.

"I gave you space, so you could enjoy your relationship, which, by the way, you didn’t even tell me about."

"Fuck," Ashton sighed heavily and touched both Y/N’s hands. "I’m sorry, alright? I just… didn’t want to tell you. Don’t you remember how you reacted that night? You didn’t even allow me to stay at your place!"

"I didn’t allow you, because you hid from me the fact you got a girlfriend at first place!" she outraged and broke the touch. "I don’t care if you have a girlfriend or not, if it’s PR or not, I just want you to be honest with me!"

"Do you? Are you really so indifferent about me having a girlfriend?" unlike Y/N’s, Ashton’s voice was calm.

The girl shoved him in the shoulder and made an attempt to jump off the counter, but her legs happened to be pressed against Ashton’s.

"Answer me," he demanded and touched her palm again.

"Yes, I don’t care," Y/N replied coldly, watching him bending down and leaving small kisses on her fingers. It became hot all of a sudden, and a heart started its race away from the feelings. It was too late to run, though.

"You’re lying to me," Ash took her second hand and left the kisses on the fingers again.

"I learnt from the best," the girl smirked, but the corners of the lips twitched, when the musician placed his palm on her knee.

"I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t want to upset you. Do you think I’m so happy about having this fake relationship?" the green eyes pierced hers, while the hand moved from the knee up. He had no shame.

"I wasn’t upset."

"Stop lying to me," he whispered and brought his face close to hers.

"What are you doing?" the girl didn’t breathe. Y/N also wanted to speak less, being scared to gasp accidentally due to everything what she was experiencing at that moment.

"Proving that you’re wrong," his lips almost touched hers, and the hand was under the skirt, when the girl gathered the remnants of self-control and placed a palm on his lips.

"Fake one or not, but you have a girlfriend. And these lips that… I maybe dreamt about at nights are kissing someone else," Y/N whispered, looking at her own hand. "I’m not doing this," she looked up at Ash. His pupils were dilated by all the emotions that were rushing through his veins. He wanted nothing but her, to hold Y/N in his arms and to kiss her lips, not… someone else’s.

"I’m sorry," Ashton whispered. "I signed the contract. You know how important the job is for me," his voice was trembling a little, as if he wasn’t sure about his own words.

"No one can force you to do that. Others don’t do it," Y/N was speaking the truth. "And I’m not asking you to cancel the contract because of me. You know I’m not like that," she smirked and took away the hand from his lips, once Ashton stepped back. "Even when I found out you had a girlfriend, you didn’t tell the whole truth. Why?"

Ash smirked and shook his head, looking away.

"It’s stupid."

"The whole situation is stupid, Ashton," Y/N chuckled coldly and jumped off the counter. "So tell me. Why didn’t you tell me it was all fake from the beginning?" she was looking at his eyes, but the guy didn’t look back.

"I wanted to see your reaction."

"Are you satisfied?"

"Y/N…"

"You’re just unbelievable," the girl rolled the eyes and headed to leave the room, but Ash caught her by the waist. "Let me go. I really don’t want to see you now," she tried to hold back the tears.

"Like it or not, I am not leaving you. If you want to go, I’ll go with you," he touched her chin, so Y/N could glance at his eyes. "I know I fucked up. But we’ve been friends for a while, Y/N. And I needed to know…"

"You could just ask me," the girl interrupted. "Do you really think I’d say I didn’t like you?"

Ash laughed shortly and turned his head away.

"What’s so funny?" she outraged.

"What’s funny?" Ash asked and returned his gaze back at Y/N. "I’ve been making hints here and there, and you never reacted!"

"Wait… You’ve been flirting with me?"

"For the past year, but thanks for noticing," Ashton shook his head. "You’re so annoying."

"Well, it’s only your fault it wasn’t clear," Y/N allowed herself a small smile.

"Oh, it’s my fault?!"

"Yes," she giggled.

"Come here," Ash chuckled and began to tickle her sides. "My fault then, huh?"

"Stop!" the girl laughed.

The musician smiled and pressed her head against a shoulder, then hugged Y/N tight.

"I’m sorry, Y/N. I know it was stupid. But… Is there a chance that you’re not too mad at me, and we can go on a date any time soon? I’ll cancel the contract…"

"I’ll think about it."

"You’ll think?!"

The laughter rang out behind the door of the old guest room again. Ashton was not going to let her leave his arms that night, although Y/N wasn’t planning to. They both knew that the hardest part was just ahead, but maybe they could go through it together. After all, there was a chance that the girl was simply mistaken, and they didn’t need to lose each other. To take the risk and actually be together was worth it all.

taglist: @dgrangaa, @gracieboogirl

– gif and photo aren’t mine and belong to the rightful owner –

All stories are original and written by me. Do not copy, trace and post anywhere without permission and credit. The stories are fictional, they do not correspond to reality and written just for fun ♡

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#Ashton irwin #5sos blurb #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer imagine #5sos #5sos angst #5sos fic #Ashton Irwin imagine #Ashton Irwin angst #Ashton Irwin x reader #Ashton Irwin x y/n #ashton 5 seconds of summer #ashton 5sos #ashton 5sauce #Ashton Irwin blurb #writersdare #writersdare ashton 5sos

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irwinsblender · 3 months

Text

sickness

a/n: wrote this fic bc i’ve been on and off with random illness for the past couple of months which i’m still dealing with (😞) but, that inspired me to write this.. so taking some positives from the negatives ig lol

pairing: ashton x reader

summary: you’ve been getting sick a lot recently and ashton is there to care for you

warnings: brief mentions of throwing up

word count: 1.8k

✩ ✩ ✩

after a couple of months of endless sickness, you thought you could be starting to go down the right path with being healthy again.

the past two months had been exhausting, you picked up a cold after visiting family and after that went away, it came back a week later. recovering from that, you thought you were in the clear.. until you felt sick one night and couldn’t seem to keep any food down.

whenever you were sick, ashton was always there to care for you as long as you needed. which you were always very appreciative for.

you were finally back to being yourself again. or so you thought.

ashton had a few studio days planned with the guys, ready to do some recording for their next album. he reassured you that he wouldn’t go if you still weren’t feeling 100%. you told him you were fine and urged him to go, which he did.

you thought you were fine, out of that danger zone of picking up other illnesses. however, you were clearly mistaken.

you’d been feeling unwell again for the past two days, a horrendous headache, stomach ache, nausea, the whole lot. at first you were going to blame it on food poisoning. but, you’d only eaten a microwave pasta meal for dinner last night, so it couldn’t be that.

by the time it was getting to evening, you were sure this was the worst you’d felt. no appetite, feeling slightly light headed. you convinced yourself getting an early night would help.

walking into your bathroom, using the sink for brushing your teeth and washing your face, you leaned down for a moment, not long, just to rinse your face. that was clearly too long for the blood to circulate properly, as when you stood upright, you blacked out instantly.

reaching around, you tried to stop yourself from falling, but it was no use. slamming your head into the wall, hitting the ground pretty hard, you knew there would be bruising.

it took a few moments but your vision came back to you, kind of. your sight was blurred, perhaps from hitting your head. you knew you should be calling ashton at this point, but you didn’t need him to worry about you again already.

instead, you called 911, thinking that would be best after hitting your head. they sent an ambulance and you were on your way to the emergency room in no time.

they did a few tests, gave you ice and pain medication for your head and without you knowing, they called ashton. the first person on your emergency contact list.

your tests were completely normal, a relief that nothing was seriously wrong with you. however, you’d hoped they’d find something to explain your bout of constant sickness as of recently.

you were given the all okay to go home by your doctor, only being told to rest for a few days and make sure you eat and drink enough.

you were about to figure out a way to get home when you heard your boyfriend’s familiar voice.

“babe? there you are!” he rushed over, seeing the ice you were holding. “are you okay? what happened?”

“ash? what’re you doing here?” you asked. “i thought you were at the studio?”

“i was,” he paused, sitting down beside you. “the hospital called, told me you were here.”

you looked down, feeling bad for not telling him what had been going on, not knowing how to explain that you had come down with sickness a further time.

“i blacked out,” you admitted, removing the ice from your head for a moment to show where you ended up having to get stitched up. “hit my head and ended up with everything looking blurry for a good thirty minutes.”

“oh, baby.” ashton sighed, placing his arm around your shoulders to pull you into his embrace. “have you not been feeling well again?”

you nodded, looking down, “for a couple of days.” you explained. “lost my appetite and haven’t had much energy.”

“did they check your temperature?” he asked, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead. “you’re hot.”

“kind of you to compliment me when i’ve never looked worse.” you glanced up at him, tiny smirk on your face.

ashton nudged your shoulder, shaking his head. you knew what he meant, sometimes you just can’t help yourself.

“yes, they checked my temperature,” you chuckled. “it’s up a little, they gave me some medication for that.”

“good,” he replied. “you had blood tests done?”

he pointed to your left arm, noticing a piece of cotton taped over the middle of your arm. you looked down for a moment, almost too tired to have to explain everything the doctors did.

“yea,” you answered. “they didn’t find anything wrong, they think it’s just a bad fever.”

“and what about all the other times you’ve been sick in the last two months,” he questioned. “surely they have some answers for that.”

“they think i’ve just got a weak immune system since i’m at home a lot of the time.”

“oh,” ashton sighed. “you can blame me for that, i’ve been writing and going to the studio which leaves you with nothing to do.”

“i’m not blaming you, ash,” you shook your head at him. “i work from home, which gives me little time to socialise with people. it’s since the pandemic, we both know that.”

ashton nodded, taking in what you were saying. he was about to add to what you said, when a nurse walked over with a clipboard and medication.

“anti nausea pills,” she explained, passing them to you. “you can take one every six hours as needed until your symptoms wear off.”

she smiled, giving another all clear for you to go home with Ashton. you kept hold of the ice pack, ashton took hold of your pills for now. he lead you out to his car, helping you inside first before he got into the drivers side.

the drive home was quiet, but short thankfully. the same as when you left the hospital, ashton helped you out of his car and up to your doorstep, unlocking the door for you before letting you in first.

he locked up for the night, slipping his shoes and jacket off before helping you to get your shoes off too.

“let’s get you up to bed, yea?” ashton suggested, you agreed, just wanting to lay down and relax.

holding onto your hand as you took one step at a time, you felt much better in ashton’s presence. he was here for if anything else happened, for if you felt sick, if you needed your pills or anything to eat or drink. he always cared for you.

once to your room, you laid down on your bed with your pillows propped up slightly. ashton covered you with your blankets, sitting beside you for a moment.

“do you need anything?” he asked. “water? a snack?”

“can you get me some water?” you asked quietly. “i think i should take one of those nausea pills.”

“of course, baby,” he smiled softly, leaving the room to grab a glass of water for you.

while he was gone, you stayed in bed, ice pack on your head, which was starting to melt and would be used up soon.

you stared in front of you, thinking about the past two months. it had been a lot. a lot of sickness, not getting out of bed very much, having to cancel dates with ashton because you felt terrible in yourself.

it had been incredibly draining. you’d reached a breaking point this time.

ashton didn’t expect to hear quiet sobs as he walked back up the stairs with your water and pills. he slowly pushed the door open, seeing you’d placed the ice pack beside you with your face hidden behind your hands.

“my love,” he softly spoke as he placed the water down on your nightstand, the pills next to it. “what’s wrong?”

he crouched down next to the bed, slowly pulling your hands away from your face, holding them in his as he caressed his thumbs across the backs.

“i’m just tired,” you cried out, the tears flowing down your cheeks. “i’m tired of being so sick all the time, i have nearly no energy to do anything, i just wanna know what’s wrong with me.”

you let out a shaky breath at the end of your sentence, ashton frowned, hating seeing you like this.

“let me come and lay with you.” ashton stood up, letting go of your hands for a moment.

he slipped under your covers, shuffling so he could be right next to you. he took one of your hands, entwining his fingers with yours.

“there might not necessarily be anything wrong right now,” ashton tried to think of what to say carefully. “you might just be going through a phase of illness, it can happen.”

you wipe your tears with your free hand, not baring to look over at ashton.

“not like this,” you shook your head. “i’ve thrown up more times in these past two months than i have my whole life.”

“i think you’re being unlucky, baby. i know it’s been hard on you, but you had tests done and nothing was wrong, right?”

“i guess.” you folded your arms, letting go of his hand in the process.

“i know things are tough, and feel never ending,” ashton placed his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “but, you’re gonna be okay, i’ll stay here with you while you rest up and try to get your strength back. anything you need, I’ll be right here.”

you leaned to rest your head on his shoulder, sighing quietly before glancing up to him.

“i’m sorry I’m being like this.” you apologized. “even though they did tests, i still feel like there’s something else going on with me.”

“tell you what,” ashton runs his hand up and down your side to comfort you. “why don’t we monitor how you feel, write it down each day to see if things change.”

you nodded, liking that idea.

“if you keep getting sick, or if your symptoms never go away, we can go straight back to the hospital or to see a doctor.”

“okay.” you meekly replied.

ashton gave a reassuring smile, kissing the top of your head, “is there anything else you need me to do?” he asked, prepared to go and get anything you needed.

“just want some cuddles.” you looked up at him, forcing a smile.

he nodded, laying down more to pull you to rest your head against his shoulder. his arms around you as you leaned against him. more comfortable than you have been for the past few days. after a few moments, you let out a quiet yawn. one ashton still heard.

“get some sleep if you need to, baby,” he whispered. “i’ll be right here with you.”

“i love you, ash.” you said before drifting off to sleep.

“i love you too,” ashton sighed, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek, happy that you’re finally getting the rest you needed. “get well soon, angel.”

✩ ✩ ✩

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin x reader #5sos fanfic #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin angst #5sos x reader #ashton irwin imagines

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bartxnhood · 8 months

Text

complete mess | a.f.i

ashton irwin x reader

summary: based on this request

warnings: mentions of bad relationships, alcohol, some language.

requests open

not proofread

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

you stood alone, abandoned at the bar. lucas, your boyfriend, was nowhere to be seen. on the verge of tears, you began to feel very frustrated with his actions.

sure, you expected this from him, but on your birthday? did he not care about you at all? you looked over the sea of people, dancing, talking, drinking, and eating in an attempt to find your boyfriend but, nothing. your eyes landed on ashton, he saw the sadness in your eyes and knew.

this sadness has been lurking in your eyes for months now. no matter how badly you tried to hide it and put on a facade, ashton saw right through it.

you had become so insecure because of lucas, and ashton was tired of it. you deserved someone worth your time, you deserved someone who would look at you like you were the only thing good in this world. you deserved someone to treat you like you were the most delicate person on the face of the earth.

you deserved someone better.

he wished you wanted him.

to ashton, you were the best thing in his life. you had such a beautiful smile, the way you lit up as if he had done something stupid and you couldn’t help but laugh. you were the brightest star in the night sky. you made ashton a better person. and to see lucas belittle you, seeing you lose the light in your eyes, watching you slowly creep into a shell of made him angry. this wasn’t supposed to happen to you. not his y/n. not ashton best girl.

pushing past the crowd of people, peter was determined to be by your side. “y/n.” ashton emerged,. “ash” you sighed, feeling weight being lifted from your shoulders. “he left me.” you finally blurted, you felt a pang in your chest knowing tears would soon follow. ashton wrapped his arms around you, letting your head rest on his chest. “i know” he sighed, rubbing your back gingerly. “ash, your shirt” you huffed, looking up at him. afraid of ruining it with your makeup. “shh it’s fine” he shook his head, wiping away your tears with his callused thumb. he held you for a minute, but it felt like forever to you. “cmon, im taking you home.” he suggested, pulling away and reaching for your hand. “you don’t need to be here.” you nodded, following behind him and out the large doors.

exiting the building, ashton’s touch never left the small of your back. “he had no right to do that to you, y/n/n” he huffed. you knew he was upset, and so were you. thinking you could get over your feelings for ashton but you only got hurt in return.

oh, foolish heart.

you had been swooning after ashton since high school. always liked him from a distance, even if the two of you were the best of friends.

you weren’t good with confrontation, let alone rejection. because what if he rejected you? how could the two of you possibly stay friends after something like that?

but when you had got with lucas just a few years out of high school, ashton was the first to tell you his feelings.

even if it was a little too late.

“i can’t believe he would be that stupid to leave you alone. if i see him, i’m gonna-“ you were quick to grab his hand, cutting him off. “ash. don’t. just relax.”

ashton had accepted that lucas was your boyfriend but he’d still do everything he could to be in your life, as long as you were happy, he was happy. but seeing you so broken, and being used. he couldn’t let it continue.

“promise me something, y/n?” your eyes met with his. both of you stopping in your tracks. “end it with him. you don’t need someone like that in your life.”

“i will.”

ashton had suggested he take you back to his place, to avoid seeing lucas when he came back later that evening.

you sat on the edge of ashtons bed, still in your dress while ashton had gotten you some water and advil to help with your growing headache. your eyes stared out the window, the night illuminated by only the stars. “i brought you some extra clothes, in case you wanted to change.” he entered the room, some folded clothes in hand, and laid them next to you. your eyes followed him, “thank you.” he nodded, “it’s no problem” he shot you a sympathetic smile and handed you the medicine and bottle.

“you’re always saving me, ash. thank you” you sniffled as you took the two painkillers and downed them with a swig of water.

ashton only hummed, watching you take the clothes in hand and making your way to the bathroom.

and when you returned, ashton had changed as well. you tossed the blaxl dress on the floor and went back to ashton’s bed.

“feel better?” he looked up at you, only getting a shrug from you. “can you help me take my hair down? there’s a lot of pins” he patted the spot in front of him which you scooted over and he proceeded to pick the pins out of your hair. “you know” ashton started, “lucas has no idea what he’s missing out on.” you simply shrugged, you couldn’t stomach talking about him again.

“i don’t know what i was thinking, i thought i could get my mind off someone else, but i only got hurt worse. i’m so stupid” a dry laugh escapes your lips. ashton paused, now knowing why you had started dating lucas. but his shoulders dropped knowing you probably liked someone else. “stop. stop blaming yourself.” he hummed.

his scratchy voice sending chills down your spine. you only let your shoulders drop. looking down at your hands. soon enough he had gotten a majority of the pins out. and with that, you finally let your hair down letting up the stress on the scalp.

ashton got a whiff of the scent of your shampoo and he couldn’t help but look away. you still haven’t changed it all these years. that familiar floral smell filled his nostrils. it was still the same kind you used in high school, he wishes he could smell forever.

it was obvious you liked someone else. you discarded the hairpins, and sat next to ashton again. “if it wasn’t for you, i’d be so lost. i’m so glad you came into my life” you smiled sadly, and he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “you’ll always have me in your corner. id do anything for you, you know that.” you nodded. you did know, hell, if you didn’t have him you’d still be miserable. he was always there for you. no matter what.

you were now curled up on ashtons chest, your eyes still glued to the window. not saying anything, you thought he had fallen asleep by now. but when you looked up at him, he was looking down at you. “i thought you were asleep.” he laughed, a simple shake of his head. you smiled, the dim light of his lamp made his skin look so beautiful, the way his hair lay in his eyes, and how he looked at you. you could stare at him for ages.

you felt your heart beating, feeling as if it would beat out of your chest. you wondered if this was the moment you’d tell ashton how you felt for the past decade.

“what’s on your mind?” he asks softly, you hum. thinking if this was the right moment and if the words that were about to spill from your lips were a good idea. your eyes flicked from his hazel eyes to your fingers, picking at your cuticles.

“do you remember a while back when you confessed to me and i had just gotten with lucas?” you ask. when you look up you see him studying you. he nods slowly, “yeah?”.

you puff your cheeks then release the air, sighing. “i liked you too at the time, and i still..well..i love you. i was with lucas simply because i thought you didn’t like me like that..” you groaned quietly, realizing how stupid it sounded.

you saw his face contort, trying to process your words. you can’t seem to read his expression. he falls silent for a moment, replaying his confession over and over again. it was all making sense.

“ash?” you say, hoping he wouldn’t be so upset with you. “i wish you would’ve told me sooner..” he says, followed by a sigh. you frown, assuming you have missed your opportunity with your best friend.

“but..” he continued, “i still love you, y/n. i have since we were teenagers. i don’t think id ever be able to get over you. you have me wrapped around your finger and i’d do anything for you.”

you feel your heart racing, your cheeks flushed pink, and you feel like you were back in high school.

“ashton, will you kiss me?”

the brown-haired boy stared at you, hazel eyes wide. his lips parted, “did you just ask if i’d-“ “kiss me” you interrupted him. this time begging him. “please” you whispered. ashton sat up, his eyes not leaving yours once as he brought his hand to your cheek and then pressed his lips on yours ever so lightly. afraid he would hurt you in any way. his lips felt so soft against yours. pure bliss engulfed your body. this was what you imagined your kiss with ashton to be like. when he pulled away, eyes meeting with yours his cheeks were flushed. having such a huge crush on you, he never thought he would have this moment with you.

your hands on his neck, you leaned in again connecting your lips. this time this kiss was longer and more intimate. your hands tangled in his brown curls while he was resting on your lower back, occasionally pulling you in. when you pulled away, catching your breath you couldn’t help but stare at him. his hand ran over your waist, playing with the hem of your shirt as the two of you watched the other, breathing each other in. ashton’s smiles, his calloused thumb tracing your cheekbone. “you make me complete, y/n.”

maybe this birthday wasn’t so bad after all.

#ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin #ashton irwin angst #ashton 5sos #ashton 5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin x y/n #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin blurb #ashton irwin imagine #5sos fan fiction #5sos fanfic #5sos fan fic #5sos imagine #5sos smut #5sos

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lovebombs4life · 6 months

Text

cheer up - a.f.i.

requested: naur, listening to chase atlantic rn

a/n: tralalala my eyes are dry

cw: SMUT!!! praise, dirty talk, name calling, slight choking, orgasm denial, oral (m), car sex, unprotected p in v, disapproving parents, black hair ashton is so 🫥🫥

———

“goodnight, y/n. ashton.” my father said as we left their house. i bit my lip, sighing as we got in the car. i knew my parents wouldn’t approve of ashton, but i'm an adult, i’m old enough to make my own choices.

they didn’t like how ashton watched my every move, squeezed my hand or leg softly, they didn’t like his tattoos. they just didn’t like him. i wish i knew why.

i threw my head back against the head rest, huffing as ashton pulled out of the driveway. “i’m sorry. i didn’t think they’d treat you like that, ash.” i frowned, looking over at him.

he shrugged, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. “it’s whatever. they don’t have to approve of me.” he said blandly. i bit the inside of my cheek, putting my hand near the center console, waiting for him to grab my hand.

he let his hand fall to mine, squeezing it. “i love you.” i spoke, kissing his hand. he smiled softly at my action.

“i love you too, y/n. always know how to make me smile.” he said, glancing at me quickly before shifting his eyes back to the road. i let go of his hand, resting it on his thigh. he tensed up at the feeling.

i drug my hand up his thigh, palming him through his jeans. his breathe hitched, grabbing my hand again. “keep that up and see what happens, baby.” he said sternly.

i smirked slightly, drawing my hand back for a minute before having it land back on his thigh, trailing up once more. “you’re grazing dangerously, darling.” he glared at me. i slid down in my seat, unbuckling his belt before sliding my hand down into his boxers.

his cock twitched as i wrapped my hand around his, sliding my thumb over his tip. he bucked his hips slightly, before pulling over. he unbuckled quickly, grabbing my hand from in his jeans, and my other free hand.

“in the back.” he demanded. i crawled back quickly, watching as he moved back there with me. i laid back against the door, his lips colliding with mine roughly. his nails dug into my hips as he grabbed them, making me gasp.

he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth, wrestling with mine. he pulled back, biting my bottom lip. i moaned as he attacked at my neck, sucking at my skin.

“such a fuckin slut. you need my cock that bad?” he asked. i nodded, looking at him with pleading eyes. “i’m sorry, what was that?” he said, wanting a verbal response from me.

“yes sir, want your cock, wanna taste you.” i cried, cupping him through his jeans once again. he groaned, pushing his jeans down. i pulled down his boxers, allowing him to sit down. i lowered myself, grabbing his dick before stroking it a few times.

he breathed out a moan, looking down at me. his dark curls fell in front of his face. i licked at his tip, before taking him into my mouth. he thrusted upwards, grabbing my head.

i moaned around him, his cock going down my throat. “fuck baby, you like that? like my cock filling your throat?” he asked, guiding my head as he pulled my hair.

i moaned in response before he pulled my head up, making me look at him. saliva dripped from my lips onto his thighs as my mouth hung open. “such a good little slut. taking my cock so well. think you deserve a reward?” he teased, his free hand sliding my shirt up, pushing my bra above my chest.

he tweaked my nipples, kneeling my breasts. i nodded before speaking. “yes sir, been such a good girl.” i gasped, looking into his eyes.

he bit his lip, lifted me to the seat next to him, pulling my jeans down quickly, my panties going along with them. he grabbed my hips, pulling me onto his lap. he moved my hips against his lap, his cock sliding between my folds.

i moaned as his cock rubbed against my clit, trying to move my hips faster. his grip was too tight, making me fail. he chuckled as he lined his cock up with my hole, pushing my hips down to make me sink into his dick. i threw my head back in pleasure, my hands resting on his thighs.

i started bouncing myself on him, moaning. he grabbed at my tits as they bounced, sucking every so often. my head leaned back against the drivers seat, my eyes rolling back.

“god, you look so pretty like that baby. my cock feel good in that pretty little pussy of yours, huh?” he groaned. i nodded violently.

“feels so good, sir, love your cock.” i cried as he thrusted his hips up to meet mine. as he did so, his cock hit deeper inside me. he chuckled as i gripped back at the seat, my eyes fluttering shut.

“fuck, don’t stop, feels so fucking good.” i moaned, biting my lip as my head fell back. he gripped my hips harder, one of his hands meeting my clit.

he applied pressure, his fingers circling around my bundle of nerves. i gasped as his fingers sped up, his hips slamming into me.

i let out a moan that sounded almost pornographic. he leaned his head forward, biting at my skin. i clenched around him, his dick curving up to hit that sponge little spot inside me.

“you gonna cum darling? gonna drip down my cock?” he encouraged, feeling my body loosen up. i nodded my head lazily, my head feeling fuzzy as he continued fucking into me, his hand still rubbing my clit.

“so close, ash, wanna cum.” i cried, my hips jerking forward. he chuckled as he pulled out of me, making me cry. he pulled his jeans back up, climbing back to the front of the car. i laid back against the seats, my eyebrows furrowed, my pussy throbbing.

“what the fuck?” i asked, confused at his actions. he only smirked as he started the car back up.

“you didn’t think i was going to let you cum right here, now did you? want to have you in our own bed where you can watch yourself in the mirror across the room, darling.” he said, letting me lay in the back as he drove the rest of the way home.

i pulled my shirt back down, and lifted my jeans back up. fine minutes later we pulled into the driveway. i instantly got out of the car, rushing to the door. i grabbed out my keys, unlocking the door.

ashton laughed at me as he was still getting out of the car. i ran upstairs, quickly throwing my clothes off, getting on the bed. i stuck my ass in the air, waiting for ashton to walk up.

i heard his slow, heavy footsteps as he made his way upstairs. i looked back at him as he entered the room. he smirked, throwing his shirt off.

“look at you, baby, all pretty for me. now you really deserve a reward.” he spoke darkly, pulling his jeans off, throwing them across the room. he pulled off his boxers, grabbing my hips. he slid his tip against me, quickly slamming into me.

i grasped at the sheets, moaning into the bed, feeling him deeper than he was when we were in the car. he grabbed my hair, pulling my back up towards him, turning my head so i could watch as he fucked me in the mirror.

“look at that gorgeous face. such a slut for my cock, aren’t you?” he bit my neck, watching me.

“love your cock, ash, love how big you are.” i whimpered, my head falling against his shoulder. i softly kissed his skin before nibbling at it. he grabbed my throat softly, his cock sliding in and out of me at a fast pace. soft swears fell from my lips as he smacked at my ass.

“taking me so well. how do you feel, huh? am i making you feel good?” he kissed my cheek as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

“feels so good, never want it to stop.” i cried. he laughed softly. i clenched around him, making his hips stutter. his hold on me tightened.

“wanna make you cum, sir, can i make you cum?” i asked, looking at him in the mirror. his head was thrown back, curls sticking to his forehead.

“not yet baby, want you to cum first.” he said, letting his hand fall to my clit as it was before. i whimpered at the sensitivity of it all. my stomach tightened, my body falling forward over his arms.

“f-fuck, sir, gonna cum!” i cried, my vision blurring as my thighs shook. my juices flowed down his cock as he continued to pound into me.

my body convulsed as i rode out my high. he pulled out of me, letting me down to the bed gently. my head was turned to the mirror, watching him as he stroked himself, hot, white ropes of his cum shooting onto my back.

he threw back his head, swearing and moaning as he came. i breathed heavily as he fell down on the bed next to me.

“your parents should be glad you have me, otherwise they’d never have grandkids in the future.” he laughed. i turned my head to him smiling, smacking him on the chest playfully.

“you’re so terrible. i love you.” i giggled.

#ashton irwin #5 seconds of summer #calum hood #luke hemmings #michael clifford #5sos #5sos5 #ashton 5sos #calum 5sos #luke 5sos #michael 5sos #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin imagines

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absolutewhore101 · 8 months

Note

can i request some fluff with ashton, reader being sad cuz they're being excluded from a friend group but ash comforts her to make her feel less alone? <3

Less Alone

A/N: hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Ashton Irwin x GN!Reader

Summary: Ash makes you feel less alone when your friends are less than stellar

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: some swearing, shitty friends

Minors DNI

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You should’ve known. Your whole life, you’d been the one left out of parties, or plans, or group trips, hell even group chats. You were just never included.

And you’d learned to cope - got used to being alone. And eventually, it stopped hurting so much. You were comfortable in your own presence and spending time with yourself, and then, you didn’t have to be. Because you had Ashton.

Ashton was the one person in your life who made you feel included in every possible aspect. He asked for your opinion on everything from his shoes to new music he was working on. And he never made a decision without your input, even if it was just what you were having for dinner or what movie to watch.

But you still had other friends. A whole group of them, actually. Rosie, Liam, and Ollie. The four of you did just about everything together, and for the first time, you felt truly included in a group.

You went out to eat at least twice a week, constantly messaged in the group chat, and even had plans to take a trip in a few weeks. It was new territory, for sure, but you were having so much fun navigating it that you didn’t mind.

Until, of course, the inevitable happened.

It wasn’t that big of a deal, really. At least that’s what you’d been telling yourself. All they did was go out to eat without you. At your favorite restaurant. In the middle of the worst week of your life - which they were all well aware of.

It has to be me. Otherwise it wouldn’t keep happening.

You stared at your phone, the picture of the three of them smiling back at you doing nothing to cheer you up. Ashton was still at the studio, he’d called you earlier to let you know that he’d be home a little later that night, so you were left to deal with this entirely on your own.

You texted the group chat, doing your best to pretend you had no idea where they were.

Hey, guys! I’ve got a bit of free time, anyone wanna come over for a little while???

Rosie: Sorry, hun! I’m all tangled up at the office right now, big project coming up

Liam: Yeah, I’m currently on a hike with a few friends, and we’re not gonna be back anytime soon

Ollie: I’d love to if I wasn’t walking into the gym as we speak. Sry luv :(

So now they weren’t just excluding you, they were lying straight to your face about it. You felt a tear roll down your cheek and you immediately wiped it away, doing your best to pretend like this had absolutely no effect on you.

But soon enough, you couldn’t hold them in. They fell and fell and fell until you heard the door open.

“I’m home, sweets! Thought we could try that new Thai restaurant for dinner if your up for-”

He cut himself off at the sight of your tears.

“Hey, honey, what’s going on?” He asked, sitting down next to you. You wrapped yourself around him, burying your face into his chest as you cried.

“I don’t know why it happens every time, Ash, but it does. It has to be me. I have to be the one pushing them away or something.” You complained.

Ashton was confused until he caught sight of your phone lying face up on the couch next to him. He took in what he was seeing and immediately understood.

“Oh, dove, it’s not you. You just happen to find the shittiest people on the planet.” He said, attempting to comfort you. It helped to some measure because he felt more than heard you let out a giggle.

“They’re not shitty people.” You commented.

“Yeah, well, either way, fuck them. It’ll just be you and I tonight, alright?” You nodded against his chest, pulling back to look up at him.

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Thank you.” You mumbled.

“Anything for you.”

A few minutes later, Ash was ordering takeout while you were debating what movie to watch.

“Babe, do you want to watch Coraline or Pride and Prejudice?” You asked when he walked back into the room.

“Oh, Coraline, for sure.” He responded.

You laughed, clicking on the movie but pausing it before it started.

“Food should be here in about 20 minutes.”

“Perfect.” You grabbed his hand, dragging him upstairs and into the master bathroom.

He watched as you dug through one of your drawers, eventually pulling out two face masks.

“Yes.” He said before you could get a word out. “100% yes.”

You smiled, placing one package down on the counter before opening the other one, gingerly applying it to Ashton’s face.

“Well don’t you look so handsome?” You playfully teased, smoothing out a wrinkle with your finger.

“I should hope so.” He said, admiring himself in the mirror. You hopped up onto the counter, watching as he opened the second one and put it on your face this time.

“How long do we leave these on for?” He asked you, picking up the empty package.

“Um, probably about 15 minutes.” You responded. He nodded, and the two of you made your way back downstairs.

15 minutes later, the masks were taken off, just a few moments before the doorbell rang to signify the arrival of your dinner.

You made yourself comfortable on the couch as Ashton got the food, admiring him as he walked into the living room.

“Are you looking at me like that because I have food?” He playfully asked you.

You shook your head.

“I’m looking at you like that because I love you and I appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”

His face flushed, and he smiled as he set down the food. He walked around the coffee table, crouching down in front of where you were sitting on the couch.

“I’d do this for you even if you weren’t having a tough week. I’d do whatever you asked of me whenever you asked me to. I love you so much, sweets, and all I want in this world is to make you as happy as I possibly can.”

You were crying for the second time that night, but (thankfully) for a much different reason. You leaned forward, connecting your lips once again, trying to convey as much love as you could through the kiss.

When you pulled away, Ashton pressed a quick kiss to your nose.

“Now, how about we eat some food and watch a movie and pretend like none of that bad stuff ever happened?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tell me your thoughts! Thank you for reading :)

#ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos x reader #x reader #ashton irwin x y/n #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin imagine

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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.

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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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