#aahton irwin imagines

[calpops]

impact | a.i.

In which Ashton meets you for a promised coffee in the afternoon and you end up lost in his world of the record shop until the moon begins to shine.

Word Count: 1k

previous part - collision

Copyright © 2020 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted by anyone else on any platform in any format (translations included).

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Late afternoon brings Ashton to the bakery across the street from his record store. The sun sits behind the line of buildings and the sky tinges with a glow that summers past white clouds. Ashton is all grins and bounding steps as he crosses the street and opens the bakery door. He spots his friend and Calum’s new romantic interest behind the counter and gives them both a small wave which they reciprocate in kind. Ashton doesn’t need words to order; Michael is well aware of his usual and sets to work on fulfilling it. But Ashton doesn’t head for the table he usually does or linger at the corner of the counter so he can make a quick pick up and escape back to Music Mayhem. This time his sights are set on you tucked into a booth with a book in your hold and wandering eyes searching for his. He breaks into a quick pace and nearly throws himself into the booth after you find him and give him a smile and inviting nod.

Having met you in a collision of falling books, broken bindings and promises of coffee the day before Ashton couldn’t get his mind off you all the night previous. You were soft spoken in the bookstore; but words fell from you in a worried rush of soft whispers and panicked eyes. Ashton found you intriguing and your offer to pay him back for a damaged dollar book unable to be denied. You brighten as Ashton settles on the other side of the booth and runs a hand through his hair. You quietly welcome him by closing your book and setting it to the side. Ashton’s gaze lingers on the cover and a new grin curves on his lips. It’s a book about music theory and it makes his interest in you intensify.

“Good read?” He asks and you nod with a humble look at the book. “You play anything?”

You shake your head no this time. “I’m not very musically inclined but I do enjoy learning about it.”

Ashton’s beaming at that. Music is his world.

“You should come check out my record shop then,” he starts and has an explanation on the tip of his tongue but gets cut short by Michael bringing two orders over.

Ashton’s usual coffee and pastry is set on the table in front of him and a hot chocolate with cinnamon is placed in front of you. You both take timid sips of the hot beverages and settle into a conversation about the record store. Your interest doesn’t falter and your questions keep coming; Ashton revels in it all, feels that light and airy hope from the day before coming back to him. He takes you in; notes the way your eyes squint when you fall into thought, the way your fingers never really settle even when wrapped around the mug. You’re fascinating in every sense. Laughter fills the date and when mugs are empty and Ashton’s pastry is picked at into oblivion you both linger. Ashton doesn’t want to be the first to leave; doesn’t want you to be either. He goes out on a limb, a dangerous feeling of falling teetering with every word.

“Y’know, I just got new stock at the shop. I could show you some instruments. Maybe some new bands.”

You’re nodding before the end of Ashton’s sentence and keeping him afloat; ensuring he doesn’t collide into rocky grounds from the fall. Ashton’s breath catches at your nod but quickly restores itself as you both gather yourselves to leave. Ashton stops to pay for the drinks even though you insist you should; reminding him it was your offer to make up for a damaged book. He waves you off good naturedly and brings you across the street. Calum mans the desk and only gives a cursory glance to both of you as Ashton leads the way to the back of the store.

“Just got this in,” Ashton announces and gestures to an old guitar. “Actually bartered for it from the antique store next door.”

He watches the awe flicker across your face and feels his own joy lighting up his features. Rarely does anyone take an interest in his world past a surface level of modern radio pop or easy oldies. He finds your fascination and craving to know endlessly amusing and endearing.

“Wow,” you say and Ashton hears how breathlessly you marvel at the old instrument. He watches your hand come up slowly but settle back at your side—too scared to touch.

“It’s from 1910; needs some restoration but it’ll be a beauty once it’s fixed up.”

“It’s already incredible,” you say and turn to face Ashton, meeting hazel eyes and dimples that accompany a smirk.

“Violins are pretty timeless. They add so much to a composition,” Ashton explains and lets his fingertips trace the grain of the wood. “I couldn’t pass this up when I saw it in the window the other day.”

Conversation comes easy from that point on. You roam the aisles and ask questions which Ashton is more than happy to give explanations for. He shows you his favorite records; tells you which ones he has at home and you both end up laughing when customers need to make a beeline past you. Ashton sees the way your eyes go wide and a flash of embarrassment crosses your face but he always waves the customers off with a laugh and directs them to whenever they need to go.

You mention a band Ashton has never heard of; challenge him with an album that doesn’t even sound familiar. You both set off in search of it and come up empty in the near endless expanse of records.

“I’ll find it,” Ashton promises—never one to turn down a challenge or new music.

“We’ll have to listen to it together. If you ever do,” you reply with a slight giggle.

Closing hours come around quickly and the desire to stay together lingers once more. He offers to drive you home and feels his heart soar when you accept. You don’t live far away but the prospect of even mere moments more with you lights Ashton up.

The moon is out and a perfect indicator that time has slipped past in a quick and easy haze. The drive takes only minutes and all too soon your departure is imminent. As Ashton bids you goodbye with suddenly shy motions and uncertainty of how to proceed he contemplates the day with you. He makes sure you get inside okay and heads back to his car as thoughts chase him with every step. He gets sucked back into the feeling of falling and shudders out an excited breath as he gets behind the wheel once more and fully realizes your impact.

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[gloss-glass-ash]

Sunday's

Request: no

Summary: the farmer!ashton Au that nobody asked for 

Tags: @cal-pal-cuddles 

Sunday's were spent at Ashton's after the various services let out. His friends and brothers with their kids would roll up the drive, stirring up dust from the dirt road. The dogs would yip with excitement alerting him of his visitors. He'd turn off the stove top and step outside with a dish rag in his hands.

The kids would happily shout at him, crawling and climbing all around him. They'd tell him about Sunday school and regular school, Luna Hemmings would proudly show off her latest lost tooth while Charlie Clifford acted too cool for the whole ordeal. Eventually, everyone made their way inside and settled in for an early dinner.

Ashton loved Sunday's. On Sunday's he had company more than just his animals and the nosy old bat of a neighbor. He wasn't alone on Sunday's.

"I'm thinking of renting the apartment over the garage." He didn't really know why he said that. He figured it was the only interesting thing he could respond with to the "what's been up with you this week?"

"Yeah?" Calum leaned the chair back, rubbing his stomach through his shirt. "What if I move back in?"

"Cal, I love you, but I ain't cleaning your shit up again."

So, he left that alone and published his want ad in the newspaper. He didn't anticipate getting a response so soon, especially not from a teacher. Ashton arranged to meet with the applicant on Saturday after the farmer's market for coffee at the only coffee shop in town.

Ashton settled into a booth by the window, removed his cap, and unzipped his jacket. He ordered a cup of tea and waited. Teachers, by nature, were punctual and Y/N was no different. She arrived promptly dressed like a Pinterest board with a folder in hand and bag on her shoulder. Ashton threw up a hand.

"Mr. Irwin?" Polite, perhaps southern. Ashton smiled and nodded.

"Miss Y/L/N?" He teased showing his teeth. "Came prepared I see."

"There's a reference from my last land lord, my resume and schedule, and two bank statements." Y/N settled into the booth, ordered a chai, and folded her hands on the table.

Ashton glanced over the papers with pseudo intelligence. He didn't know shit about what all that stuff meant; his roommate interest was entirely about someone to use the apartment on the farm and maybe offer human interaction on day's other than Sunday's.

"Why are you leaving your old lease? Those are swanky apartments downtown."  Ashton took a sip of his tea, deciding being nosy was his best bet.

There was a blush of embarrassment to her cheeks. "You can look at my bank statements teachers we don't get paid shi-nothing, we don't get paid anything."

He remembers Liz mentioning stuff before about teachers having to protest for pay and pensions. At the time, he didn't care. Today, sitting before this gentle creature soft with curves and gentle eyes, he decided he did care...a lot.

The two got on nicely so he agreed for her to come visit the following Monday evening and move in the next weekend. Monday evening arrived quickly which left Ashton little time to fix any repairs in the apartment while tending to the farm.

Calum left a lot of his shit there that Ashton placed in a box to give him later. He moved the bed frame toward the window and added some plants,interior designers be damned. Y/N arrived in a hatchback, hair falling from a ponytail. She held a coffee mug in her hand.

"Rough day?" Ashton led her up the stairs to the apartment, his hand hovering over her back close enough for protection without being invasive.

Y/N laughed a joyful sound. "Shakespeare for Seniors was today." Sometimes she was so in the education bubble that she forgot there were people who didn't live and breathe school. Ashton's confusion was apparent as he opened the door. "The language arts and social studies departments team up to study Shakespeare and perform for residents of local nursing homes."

"Woah that's so" good, adorable, amazing, "awesome." Ashton entered the apartment. "It's got a living room, bedroom, full bath, basically an open floor plan." He settled onto the bench by the front door, letting her look around. "I'll do maintenance. Heating and air is pretty stable. However, if we get a winter like last years, you'll have to come in the farmhouse it'll be too cold."

"Can I repaint? And can my car go in the garage below?"

She signed papers right away, paying him first months rent with the promise of last months soon. Ashton waved a hand dismissively and assured her he'd help move her in. Slowly throughout the week he would move her belongings over in his old pickup and trailer.

Y/N was all settled by Saturday night, just in time to snuggle up in bed and watch SNL. She was exhausted from her work week and all the stress of moving. Perhaps she should have considered farm life a bit more, but the idea of not sleeping in on Sunday's hadn't crossed her mind.

A rooster crowed at sunrise, perched on top of the fence just outside her window. Dogs barked consistently. Ashton whistled quite loudly as he went about his daily chores. Y/N managed to lay in until 8. Dressing, she headed out to the barn barn where Ashton was happily feeding his pigs.

"Morning sunshine, I didn't wake you did I?" The worry in his eyes was so sincere she couldn't say yes.

"No, I'm used to getting up early." She peeked behind Ashton to the pig pen. "Not to judge or be ungrateful, but you don't, you know" she slid her thumb across her throat.

"I sell them. I eat bacon. I don't eat my own pigs though, wouldn't feel right."

"They're awfully cute."

Without hesitation, Ashton scooped up a squealing piglet and passed it to her. "You get attached then I can't sell her. Do with that what you will."

Poppy got a little red ribbon tied around her neck by that afternoon. Ashton was quite pleased that the little piglet was staying because it meant Y/N was staying. He waved her in from the barn to his back porch. "My family is stopping by for dinner, you're welcome to join us unless you're busy."

Y/N was not, in fact busy. She had finished posting grades, she was caught up on laundry, and she was painfully single. "Are you sure?"

The sunlight hit his smile in the way only movies could, in the way that made him look like James Dean or maybe even Harry Styles. "I wouldn't have offered if I didn't mean it, honey." A certain smugness tightened in his chest at the way her eyes widened at his quip. "They'll be over soon."

It had been several years-10 maybe- since she'd been to Sunday dinner but she reasoned her teacher wardrobe would suffice. She searched what food she had brought to move in with, grabbed a bottle of wine, and headed to the farm house. Better to show up with a cheap bottle of wine from CVS than empty handed.

Ashton had changed into sinfully tight black jeans with a crisp white shirt that made him glow. "You wash up nice." Y/N teased handing him the wine. "Not exactly Sunday dinner material but it's something."

Without paused, Ashton took her under his arm and into his chest. A musky yet clean scent filled her senses as he gave her a quick squeeze. "You're the one who needs the housewarming gift, my dear."

Calum arrived before Y/N could worry about making a fool of herself. Ashton kept his arm secured around her while ushering her to the kitchen with Calum. The rest trickled in until they were settled around a table that didn't set level with floor and chairs that creaked.

"Mrs. Y/L/N, why are you living with Uncle Ash?" Charlie Clifford asked, fondly setting next to his favorite teacher. "I mean, I'm not complaining if it gets me an A , but I have a responsibility to report the facts."

"Charlie, you were the school news reported one day and almost got suspended, leave your teacher alone." Y/N quite liked Michael and Crystal. She liked his entire family for that matter. It had been a long time since she sat at a table and felt she belonged there.

"It's okay, Charlie. I'm not living with your Uncle. I'm renting the apartment over the garage."

"And domesticating my pigs." Ashton teased before taking her hand and Cal's to bless dinner and wow she was fond.

During the week, they adopted a routine that switched dinner from each of their places. Wednesdays were interesting, as Y/N watched from her bedroom window while Ashton did yoga with his goats ("I'm telling you they make it better"). Friday's were a little odd, watching Y/N assault his blender making cocktails while watching cable news ("I've had a long week and our country's going to hell in a hand basket I deserve this").

Somewhere between Sunday dinners and Charlie's play or maybe it was after Luna's dance recital, Ashton wasn't sure. Regardless, at some point he forgot what life was like without her. That was scary in the beautiful way. He wanted more than what they had. So, he changed into his best flannel shirt and slicked his hair back. He cut flowers from his rose garden and put a little glitter on.

Marching right up the stairs to her apartment, he knocked upon entering. Poppy squealed from her pet bed zooming right for his legs. Y/N had taken off her heels by the door and was in the process of starting dinner when he touched her shoulder.

"I'd sure like to take you out tonight" Ashton paused, hazel eyes filled with affection, "and maybe kiss you. I'll walk you home after." He winked with a sparkly smile.

True to his word, Ashton took her out, asked and then kissed her, and walked her home the morning after. Things changed for the best. It wouldn't be long before Ashton would move her stuff in into the house with the intention of forever.

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