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lia-wildfire · 3 years

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Vigilante Tries to Soldier Through it but Someone Tattles (Whumptober)

It was a nice night out. She preferred the cooler air, although it didn’t do much to help her stinging skin. And this was California, so it was only ‘cool’ compared to how hot it had been a few hours before. (Not that she’d been outside a few hours before, or very much at all in the last few days.) She would probably have been fine in just the threadbare clothes she’d been wearing during most of her latest infiltration, but the scarf and jacket she’d stolen (violently) on her way out was a welcome addition. It concealed most of her exposed injuries and some of the blood stained on her shirt, leaving anyone who saw her only able to wonder about what was up with the top half of her face.

A pretty normal sight, all things considered, to any experienced night guard at the building she was approaching now. The two at her preferred entrance melted out of the shadows as she approached, having definitely seen her coming from a distance.

“Excuse me, ma’am, what is your business at this…” one of them started, trailing off when she pulled the scarf down. She would like to think that it was just because they recognized her and not because the bruising had gotten that much worse since the last time she saw her reflection.

“Friendly afternoon visit,” she said with a winning smile, ignoring how stretching those facial muscles made her want to wince.

“…Can you tell us the date, ma’am?” the other one asked after a second of staring.

“November 3rd, 1923,” she said, still smiling, without skipping a beat.

“Past midnight it’s November 4th, ma’am.” The second one said evenly.

“Of course, the late hour must be getting to me.”

This passed quickly, like two actors going over their thoroughly memorized lines. After an exchanged glance and a pause that would have made anyone else start to doubt their delivery, the first guard nodded, pressed something on their communicator, and stepped back to get the door for her.

Not bothering to pull the scarf back up now, she walked confidently into the dimly lit back entrance area, making a beeline for where she knew the elevator was. There was a special code in here, too, to make it to the penthouse, but she had that one memorized as well.

Leaning back against the support bar for a minute was nice, though she had to position herself carefully so as not to let it dig into her back or side in a bad position. Closing her eyes on the ride up, she hummed slightly in appreciation of how smooth the elevators were here. No jittering to worry about, just a soft whirring and the slight feeling of vertigo as it came to a stop many storeys up in the air.

The more steps she took to get into one of the most well-defended areas of this place, putting a set of barriers between her and anyone who might have been in pursuit, the more tension bled out of her shoulders.

As soon as she stepped out of the elevator, she was met by the familiar face of the butler, who had evidently seen her coming and had already known that it was her, rather than the one other person who was allowed in that elevator with any regularity.

“Hey, Ash,” she said casually before they could get through a more formal greeting, raising one hand in a lazy wave and holding back a wince as it reminded her of a hit she’d taken to the shoulder earlier.

“Good evening.” They sounded as proper and English as ever, and she didn’t miss their perceptive eyes zeroing in on every unusual detail about her current appearance, not only the injuries but definitely also the ill-fitting clothes and hair in desperate need of a wash.

(She’d been lucky no one had decided an impromptu haircut was in the cards. She wouldn’t have been able to stop them without breaking cover, but that would have been a little more awkward to explain to her sisters than the usual aftermath of a prolonged fight.)

“…Victor won’t be in for another week, I’m afraid, but the room is open to you as always,” they said with the air of someone who was giving the usual pleasantries only as a precursor to a more serious subject change, and was not trying to hide it. “Are you alright?” And there was the serious part.

“Yeah,” she shrugged, rolled her shoulders, and this time could not stop a wince. She merged it smoothly into a more joking sort of smile-grimace. “It’s just from the job I’ve been on, there were a couple of “complications,” you know how it is. No death traps in the kitchen tonight?”

The attempt at changing the subject again was not successful, as Ashton followed her into the kitchen and shooed her away to wait on a barstool while they got her a glass of water with exactly one cube of ice. Or, a sphere of ice, because the fridge here was massive and fancy and had both a cube and a sphere option for how the ice could come out.

The water was wonderful to her parched throat, and she held the glass up longer than necessary to let the ice rest against the split in her lip for a few seconds. It was always nice to spend a few minutes after one in the morning sipping water with a tall British person in a suit and pencil skirt hovering over her every move.

“Need something?” she asked with a look over the lip of the glass.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Ms Roxanne? You don’t need… medical attention?” Right, yeah, they were a highly skilled government agent before they became a butler. Definitely had some good first aid training from all that.

“Just some bandaids and a full night’s sleep… And, again, you can call me Roxy.”

Ashton did not look convinced, and then they turned to where she knew the painkillers and general medications of varying strengths were stored. There was no stopping them from this now, but she could try anyway for the principle of the thing.

“I’ve done this before, Ashton, it’s not that bad.”

“To put it lightly, Ms Roxanne, you look as though you tried to fight a team of superheroes. Or, if I were inclined to be generous, won a fight against an entire street gang.” Maintaining stern eye contact, they set down a couple of pills and a cookie.

“Not as wrong as you could be.” Roxy picked up the cookie first, searching both sides with suspicion. It was the imported kind that was labeled ‘biscuit’ instead of ‘cookie’ and which everyone knew she secretly liked but pretended to be suspicious of anyway. Because they were in the US, so being suspicious of England was funny. “What’s this, weird, British thing– trying to poison me?”

“Would you like me to put the biscuit away and let you have an upset stomach? Please pardon me for assuming you haven’t eaten in the last hour.”

Not feeling up to a prolonged bit at the moment, Roxy caved and ate the ‘biscuit’. After swallowing the painkillers with the second half of her water, she let the ice sit for a moment again. It turned out talking too much made the split lip hurt worse, who could’ve guessed?

“I notice you snuck some melatonin in there,” she observed.

“To help you sleep. Pardon me again for assuming you may have some trouble, otherwise,” they paused and looked her up and down again, “considering.”

“Fair,” she admitted.

They sat in silence as she finished off the water one sip at a time. She debated waiting for the ice to melt enough that she could take another tiny sip every several minutes, just to see how Ashton would react, then decided against it and crunched what remained of the ice sphere.

Getting to bed wasn’t too much of a hassle. Ashton followed her to the master bathroom, because of course they did, but left her to go inside by herself. She only heard them step in once she was in the middle of showering, presumably to put some things on the counter and whisk away her dirty and one hundred percent stolen clothing.

Hot water would be nice and she happened to know for a fact that it was literally unlimited here, but she kept it to a mild, lukewarm temperature as she carefully cleaned everything she could currently reach without wincing, and let soap and water wash down her back unassisted to at least get the worst of it off back there. Drying off was a little bit of an ordeal, but the towels were very soft and she didn’t have any head wounds to stop her from wrapping up her hair. Everything she couldn’t get for the risk of aggravating some injury or another could just air dry while she went looking for first aid supplies to use on her face.

When she turned around to see how her back looked, she let out a low whistle. Who knew whips could do that when you weren’t being nice and responsible with them? (Probably every single person who’d ever been remotely involved with the “market” that her latest job had had her infiltrating.)

There were two options here. One, she could put on the silky robe Ashton had left hanging up for her and go to bed without dealing with all that yet, and probably wake up really sore and maybe with some kind of infection. Two, she could get some help tending to it and go to bed with some level of reassurance that it was fine, but at the cost of Ashton knowing exactly how bad it looked.

With a towel around her waist, she cracked the door and summoned them. Their face remained carefully neutral even after they saw, which definitely meant that they thought it was incredibly bad but knew that Roxy would not be taking constructive criticism on the choices she made that led up to it. That, or, they just didn’t want to get into it right now, in favor of getting her into a bed at some point during that melatonin’s window of greatest effect.

There was a lot more stinging disinfectant and a lot more bandaging going on back there than Roxy would have thought necessary, herself, but she wasn’t going to complain. Anything touching the whip marks directly was incredibly Bad with a capital B, but she had to admit to feeling a lot better once they were all cleaned and wrapped up.

The one joke she cracked about how it wasn’t as bad as it could be because she didn’t have any broken bones did not seem to go over well, so she conceded and didn’t say much until they were done. Ashton helped her into the robe and left her to get some pajama pants on by herself, continuing to hover and help until she was safely tucked in between Victor’s silk sheets.

It was still uncomfortable to lie down in most positions she tried, but, then again, that melatonin really was having a window of greatest effect.

- - -

Predictably, Roxy woke up sore. The painkillers had worn off at some point, so she got the full experience of throbbing and stinging and every attempted movement making her limbs want to go on strike. They had not yet managed to achieve independence from the rest of her, however, so when she decided it was time for them to get her standing up, they obeyed. The blackout curtains did their job well, so she had to pull one back slightly if she wanted to see by anything other than the soft, slightly futuristic floor lights on the edges of the room.

Taking stock, she determined that this was actually better than a couple of the times she’d come out of a mission injured. When her hair fell into her face for want of a headband, it was soft and light from being cleaned with incredibly expensive, high quality rich-people products, and she knew her back would have been a lot worse without Ashton’s help.

Speaking of Ashton, they seemed to have woken up before her, because she could smell something cooking. Possibly more than one something, which would make sense if they still felt like hovering but hadn’t come in to wake her up yet. There was the almost-imperceptible sound of voices, as if they were talking to themself or perhaps playing a video. Cooking tutorial, maybe.

The stolen clothing from the night before was nowhere to be seen; either it was waiting to be washed or Ashton had burned it. Roxy wasn’t worried about what happened to most of it, but it would be nice if the bloodstained parts had been saved in case she felt like getting them tested for genes.

Leaving the robe on the bed, she stretched her arms as much as they dared as she made her way to steal one of Victor’s shirts. They were long enough that she had gone around the penthouse in one with no pants before (but she would rather get stabbed again than get out of these soft pajama pants before eating something). There were no headbands to steal in Victor’s bedroom, and she didn’t feel like scavenging the bathroom for elastics, clips, or pins. So, with her hair loose, wearing no more than pajama pants, bandages, and an oversized button-up shirt, she pushed her hair back and stepped out.

Ashton was, indeed, doing their thing in the kitchen, wearing pants today along with an apron that looked a little too professional for someone making relatively normal breakfast in a non-restaurant kitchen. More curtains kept the floor-to-ceiling windows in the main area from letting in too much light, but from the angle and brightness she could still estimate that it must be later than she usually woke up. And from a glance at the clock, she could confirm that it was almost nine in the morning. She had really overslept.

As she nosed her way into the cooking space, she found them carefully transferring what looked like small fried pies out of a skillet. Uncooked ones waited their turn on a plate nearby.

“You need a little more oil,” she observed, her voice coming out a little more thick and sleepy than she would have liked. Actually wait, hold on, she hadn’t seen anyone making these since the last time she visited family. “You can make spanakopita?” The question came out sounding like an accusation.

“I can make anything, given a good recipe, Ms Roxanne.” So that probably had been a cooking video she’d heard before. Ashton removed the last one from the pan and reached for more oil, but refrained from putting any new ones in until they had turned to shoo her away from the barstools. “I would invite you to wait in the living area,” was their way of banishing her, possibly to avoid having their cooking process nitpicked again. Possibly also to keep her from seeing them pull up a tutorial to nitpick their own cooking process with.

When she stifled a yawn with the back of her hand, she was reminded of her shoulders’ present desire to complain about everything but especially movement. Sitting down in a chair that had a soft back would be pretty nice…

The living area was surrounded by sliding walls that could be used to keep it more or less separate from the adjacent sometimes-areas sometimes-rooms. At the moment, it had a wide doorway on one side, a deployed wall opposite the full length windows, and a view into Victor’s office area and the back of his tall spinny chair. Were she feeling inclined to snoop, Roxy would have looked into there, but was distracted easily by the setup surrounding one of the lounge chairs. A side table held a full glass of water with exactly one sphere of ice, a small pitcher with more water and no ice, and a tall mug of steeping tea. The matching table on the other side held a very inviting plate of buttered toast, with a fried egg sitting on top of one piece.

For a second, she thought about draping herself over a couch instead of taking the obviously intended seat, just to see how Ash reacted. But her desire for water and toast outweighed her desire for mischief at this time, so she sank down into the black leather and took a second to close her eyes and breathe in and will her strained muscles to relax. It wasn’t like the guys she’d been spying on could make it up here, even if they had somehow tracked her all the way to the building. And her next information rendezvous wasn’t until that evening, so she could take a minute to chill.

When her eyes opened, it was to the realization that her current seat was centered perfectly behind Victor’s chair, brought to her by the realization that said chair was slowly turning around.

Of the two supervillains that she was familiar with, she knew that one of them participated in dramatics mostly because it helped with the stress of the job, and partly because it was fun. Victor Stirling, on the other hand, having inherited quite a few things from his supervillain parents including a general style of mannerisms, was probably not doing the chair spin reveal thing ironically.

Before he came to a stop, facing her head-on, Roxy put together that Ashton must have called him about her condition either while she was in the shower or after she had fallen asleep last night. If he hadn’t meant to come back for another week, very few other things could have summoned him on such short notice.

She prepared a smirk and a tease about him being predictable, but both died before making it out when she met his eyes.

“So I’m not known for cutting business meetings short.” Starting off strong with a non sequitur, classic. Roxy’s smile started to edge back on as she watched Victor stand up from his seat.

“Catch you in the middle of one?” she asked, then remembered her voice wasn’t great at the moment and she would be partaking of some water before saying anything else.

“No, I was just starting the day in Spain, actually,” he answered while watching as if worried that she might have trouble drinking water, of all things. And without waiting for another response, he launched right back into… Ooh, he was monologuing.

“Allow me to paint a picture of it for you. It was past ten in the morning, I had completed much of my less savory business the night before, and had the entire afternoon ahead of me booked with meetings on the more savory side of things, when suddenly I find I’m receiving a call from my good, trusted friend Ashton, whom you may be aware I’ve expressly told to call me only in the circumstances of an emergency.

“And, upon answering this call, what should I hear them say, but that my girlfriend arrived at a late hour and is much worse for wear.

“Now, I know that my dear, competent, intelligent partner is experienced and knows how to handle herself in her work, so if Ashton is calling my emergency line, the situation she finds herself in must be truly dire, no? Certainly not the usual bouts of combat –which I am well aware you can normally teleport out of the moment they become too much– and certainly not gained from your usual heists and espionage, no, I was told that you seem to have been whipped?”

The worry in his voice was clear, and would have been clear even to someone who didn’t know him well enough to read him. As he drew closer, having apparently vented enough of his feelings for the moment to move to the next stage of his presentation, Roxy saw that his suit was rumpled and was probably, in fact, the same suit he had put on before 10 AM in Madrid. Had he slept at all? Maybe on the couch she had been eyeballing a second before this began. If anyone had gone into his bedroom while she was asleep, she probably wouldn’t have stayed asleep for very long.

“And I don’t mean to put down your skills, it would be foolish for anyone in my position to suggest that you aren’t a professional, or chose your mission poorly. But your present state is…” He broke eye contact to look down at the gauze covering her torso through the gap in the stolen shirt. He probably knew that it was there for everything on her back, but he wouldn’t be wrong to wonder if it was also hiding any bruises over her ribs or stomach area. She knew there was a pretty bad one peeking out by her collarbone.

“Roxanne. Roxy. I know that in our… business relationship, I tend to be the one who calls on you for assistance in these underground affairs, but you must know that you can call on me when something is… of a caliber where you may want my assistance.” He stopped a couple of steps in front of her, giving another up and down look. “You mentioned you were going into something undercover.”

“Deep undercover,” she confirmed. When he kept looking expectant, she continued, leaning forward to get to business, “It wasn’t in the cards to go in on the same level as the higher-ups, and we needed to confirm how exactly they get the victims and transport them. So I posed as one.”

Victor was quiet for a moment, his crossed arms rising, then falling as he took a breath and let it out.

“You remained just long enough to get the necessary information,” he assumed, and she nodded. Letting out another breath, he closed the distance and half-knelt in front of her in one smooth motion, reaching up to put a hand gently under her chin, moving it to cup the side of her face. “Then I hope you’ll be able to tell me,” his voice was softer now, not that that in any way concealed the dangerous undertone as his eyes lingered on her split lip, black eye, the faint bruise left from a harsh slap, “who did this to you?”

#whumptober2021 #no.3 #who did this to you #oc #fic #implied torture #implied human trafficking #heroes and villains #protective villain #wordcount 3760 #victor stirling #roxy the rogue #ash the butler #sssshv #supervillain #lady whump

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calpalirwin · 3 years

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Waiting Game

Request: Heyy! I have a request but if you find it odd you can not write it. Anyways. What if ash chase the reader for a time then finds out she doesnt want to be with him cause she wants to wait till marry... you know... what would be his reaction. Thanks 💖

A/N: There is nothing wrong with waiting, just like there is nothing wrong with not waiting. Your sexual experiences are yours to have whenever you are fully ready for that (or not have them at all, it’s your call), and you have my full permission to throat punch whoever doesn’t respect that.

Word Count: 1.8k

And away, and away we go!

Ashton was usually the type of man to take “no” for an answer. He usually had zero issue brushing off the occasional rejection and going about his life. It wasn’t like it was hard. Sure, it stung in the moment. But in his opinion it was better to have tried and got shut down, then to have never tried at all. That, and usually he never saw the person again, which definitely helped in putting the moment of brief embarrassment behind him.

Then he had met you, and what he would usually do went out the window.

“Hey, can I get you a drink?” a slightly accented voice asked.

“No, thank you,” you said, turning in your chair to look at the stranger. He was tall, and you assumed well-built if the way his jacket strained against his arms and shoulders was anything to go by. His brown hair was perfectly slicked back aside from a few strands that curled stubbornly across his forehead. His golden green eyes drank you in, as his tongue poked out to wet at his lips. Your fingers gripped the underside of your seat to hold yourself steady. “I-I’m good,” you stammered, heat rising to your cheeks.

The man giggled. “Well… alright then. But uh… if you need a new drink later on… come find me, yeah?”

You were sure your ears were turning pink with how warm you were growing under this man’s attention. “I… will keep that in mind, barkeep,” you said as an attempt at flirting.

The man giggled again. “It’s Ashton, actually. And not a barkeep. Or bartender, or whatever. Just a man hoping you’ll let him get you a drink, so he has an excuse to talk to you.”

“Ashton? Hmm. Pretty.”

“Bet it’s not as pretty as yours.”

“Oh, what a line!” you laughed. “You must be quite the charmer, Ashton.”

“Yeah what you didn’t see was me talking to myself in the mirror, working up the nerve to talk to you. But uh… I’ve probably taken up enough of your time now. I’m uh… over there,” he jerked a thumb backwards at a table where a small group was seated, nursing their drinks, and laughing at something someone had said, “if you change your mind about that drink. Anyways…” he drummed his hands against his thighs, “yep… Enjoy your evening.”

It was a brief encounter that Ashton would have shaken off just like anything else. But fate had the two of you running into each other again a few days later.

“Guys,” your friend Sierra introduced, “This is Y/N. Y/N, these are the guys.”

Two of the blondes, and one of the brunettes nodded, muttering hellos and nice to meet yous, while the fourth man stood there with a slight smirk, like he was privy to a joke no one else was in on. When Sierra murmured something about getting drinks, and making the rounds, the group disbanded, leaving just you and the stranger who was less a stranger and more a familiar face. “I knew your name was prettier than mine,” he commented.

“No you didn’t,” you told him.

“Yeah, I did. I said that I bet my name wasn’t as pretty as yours. And I was right. So, how do you know Sierra?”

“College.”

“Oh, that’s very cool.”

“You don’t sound like you believe that,” you chuckled slightly.

“Well… I mean, college wasn’t my thing. But I have a great admiration for those who were able to do it. I’ve heard it’s not easy.”

“Neither is becoming a successful rock band at such a young age.”

Ashton’s cheeks turned pink as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Heh, thanks. I guess we all pick our hard.”

“That we do.”

“So… Can I get you that drink, now?”

“The kitchen’s right there,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, I know. Strong, independent woman. Capable of getting her own drink. But asking to get you a drink is a lot less scary than asking you out to a drink.”

“Oh, so I scare you?”

“Me? Scared of you? No,” he waved his hand dismissively, scoffing. “You do make me nervous though. And I can’t figure out why.”

“Mmm, let me know when you do, yeah?” And with that, you started to walk off, in search of getting yourself a drink without Ashton’s help.

You’d only taken a few steps, when he fingers wrapped delicately around your wrist. When you turned to look up at him in silent question, astonishment on your face, he immediately let go. “Sorry… But… I’m gonna kick myself if I don’t at least ask. So… would you want to go out for coffee, or something sometime? With me?”

“I-” you started. There was no way to dance around the question now. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to spend more time getting to know Ashton. It was that doing so meant running the risk you ran every time you got close to somebody: losing them because they wouldn’t understand. And with Ashton being your best friend’s boyfriend’s bandmate, that meant that Ashton wouldn’t be someone who faded out of your life when the inevitable happened. The fallout would always linger, tainting everything.

“Don’t date people you don’t know?” Ashton supplied his own answer to your hesitation.

“Something like that. I’m sorry, Ashton.”

He raised his hands in surrender, “Hey, you don’t have to apologize, or explain yourself to me. I just knew that if I didn’t at least try, I’d regret it. No hard feelings. Friends?” He offered you his hand.

“Friends,” you smiled, shaking his hand in yours, and breathing a sigh in relief. Bullet dodged.

~~~

For the next handful of months, that was it. Ashton’s head spun with curiosity of the what ifs with you and him, but he kept those thoughts to himself in favor or respecting your answer. Until one day it slipped without him meaning for it to.

You were laughing so hard it was one of those laughs that was silent, your mouth hanging open, tears forming in the corner of your eyes, doubled over in your chair as you fought for breath. “See?” Ashton giggled more at your reaction than at the joke that had been shared. “If we were dating, it’d be like this all the time. Me making you laugh this hard.”

Your next wheeze ended with a sharp intake of breath. “Oh…” you sighed, straightening up in your chair, the moment of hilarity gone in an instant.

As the cloud of awkward started to wrap around the two of you, Ashton scrambled to fight it off. “I- I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry. Ignore me. That was… Sorry. Actually… I’m not all that sorry. And I know that I should be. I know that I should respect your answer. And I do. I really like that we’ve been able to become friends. But part of me is still wondering, and I can’t seem to let that go. And correct if I’m wrong, but I think it’s because I get the feeling that you didn’t want to tell me no. That part of you wants this too, but won’t give into it for whatever reason. And if I’m wrong, I’m wrong. I’ll shut up, and I promise this will be the last time I bring up something about us being more than friends. I’ll do that, I swear. But… God, I really don’t think I’m wrong here. Am I?”

You shook your head sadly. “No, Ash. You’re not wrong.”

“Then… why? Was it because you didn’t know me before? Are you waiting for me to ask again? Should I ask again? Or do we just pretend I never said anything because I probably sound like the world’s biggest cunt right now?”

“I-” you sighed. “It’s complicated, Ash. Would I like to go out with you? Yes. I would. But you don’t want to go out with me. You think you do. And I’m flattered by that. But, you’re not going to like going out with me. Maybe not right away. But eventually. And I’d rather just avoid that fallout.”

“Why wouldn’t I like going out with you? I like hanging out with you now. It’d be the same thing wouldn’t it?”

“It’d be exactly the same thing.”

He gave a short chuckle of confusion. “I’m not getting what the problem is.”

“I’m a virgin, Ashton.”

“So? There’s more to relationships than just sex.”

“It’s not for lack of interest, Ash. It’s a personal choice. Like… I’m waiting for marriage.”

“Oh. So when you said it’d be exactly like it is now, you meant exactly exactly.”

“Yeah. And before you say that you’re cool with that, let me just say that, yeah, you might mean that. For now. But eventually that’s not going to be the case. Eventually I’m gonna be the prude girlfriend, and you’re going to pretend it doesn’t bother you, even though it does because you’ll see that as a reflection of yourself rather than a choice I made for myself years ago. And those inklings of doubt will turn into resentment, and we’ll implode.”

“I get that that’s happened to you probably just the right amount of times for you to not only expect that outcome, but also refuse to see any other outcome. I’m not saying that it won’t be hard… Wrong word choice… Like, I’m not expecting it to be easy. Nothing worth having ever is. I’m choosing this hard, Y/N. And if you don’t want to choose it with me, then… Well, that just really sucks. But for what it’s worth, we already said what we’d be if we were in a relationship with each other. We’d still be us. Still be this. So, I still don’t fully understand your hesitation to keep doing that. But I don’t need to understand it to respect it. So…” The nerves overtook him then as he drummed his hands against his legs. “I’ll uh… see you around, I guess.” He stood up, tongue clicking in his cheek as he wondered if he should add anything else. “Oh! And please, don’t feel bad like I know you want to. I just need a minute to let this go. See ya, Y/N.”

“Wait!” you called out after he took a few steps.

“Hmm?” he asked, looking at you over his shoulder.

“You promise me it won’t be any different than now? That we can just laugh and have a good time? That a relationship doesn’t have to mean sex?”

“Promise. I want you, Y/N. Not sex.”

“If you’re lying, I will never forgive you.”

“When have I ever lied to you?”

“Never…”

“Exactly. So… Can I kiss you? Or is that off the table, too?”

The glint in his eyes and the slight smirk let you know he was joking, so you didn’t feel too bad for shoving his shoulder. “Kissing is fine, weirdo.”

“The word you’re looking for is actually ‘boyfriend.’”

Tag List

@aquarius-hood1996 @creator-appreciator @philthepegacorn @myfavfanficsever @cxddlyash @youngblood199456 @stormrider505 @tarltongrl96 @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @hoodhoran @metalandboybands

#waiting game #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin x reader #5sos #calpal irwin

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new2fivesauce · 4 years

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Please Don't Regret Me - 4. Lavender Sheets

4091 words.

No Warnings... I think.

Sorry for the looooooong wait. I hope this makes up for it. I think the ending sucks but I needed to get this out my head fast before I put it off again. Enjoy.

June 2018.

Nelle's departure from being 5 Seconds of Summer’s assistant had been abrupt, leaving her feel like she had left her job incomplete thus causing her to spiral through a series of emotions and phases she believed she hadn’t felt since she was a raging, hormonal teenager.

The day she had given her news, they all awkwardly arrived at the airport at the same time. In her haze of emotions, she had not changed nor cancelled her flight to Australia and since 5sos was also flying international, they were stuck in the same terminal. Luke and Nelle did not speak again since their elevator meet. Michael noticed their tension, but didn’t say anything. His saddened green eyes only flickered between the two as they both tried their best to ignore one another. It wasn’t how she wanted to leave Luke, but she didn’t want to get his hopes up.

Calum, however, was the first to come up to her and apologize, practically beg her to forgive him for being such a selfish, shitty friend. Ashton and Michael followed suit with their apologies letting bygones be bygones. They agreed to keep in touch; everything returning to somewhat normal although the guys still looked bummed walking towards their flight with their new assistant.

She’d spent a couple weeks in Australia, staying in the house duplex she and Calum had bought together with their first good paychecks, but had hardly used due to constant traveling. She spent time with her parents, visited the guys' families, cleaned their empty homes to not waste money on a cleaning service, and took the duties of taking care of Duke from Mrs. Hood. Nelle also hung out with a few old schoolmates but quickly regretted that choice. They all seemed to “remember” how good friends they were, trying to manipulate Nelle for favors or money only because she knew “certain” people.

Mali-Koa, Calum’s sister, came to visit one week. She’d heard the news of Nelle’s leaving, and insisted that she come back with her to London.

“Girl, you needed a break from those dweebs anyways.”

So she did.

Nelle didn’t last very long in London though. Word had been passed of Nelle’s whereabouts which caused a very weepy, distraught Michael to leave a lengthy voicemail about betraying them for Cal's bitchy sister. She wasn’t really enjoying her time in London anyway, leaving Mali about 3 weeks later. She made a quick visit back to Australia before deciding that perhaps living in her vacant loft in Manhattan wouldn’t be such a bad idea. She’d let Calum know that Duke was coming with her before departing to the Big Apple.

She’d only been in NYC for two days when she’d run into a childhood friend that was not Calum.

Sasha Hendricks had been Nelle’s best friend when their parents were in the Army. They’d lived on the same bases and traveled the world together before Nelle’s parents settled in Australia and Sasha’s in Texas. Every year, before Nelle took on her job with 5sos, the girls alternated spending summers with one another in their country. They hadn’t seen much of each other in more than five years so no doubt it was a huge surprise when they both walked into the same small, cozy café.

Sasha had derailed from her parent’s Army footsteps to become a model. Not in the big leagues with faces like Kendall Jenner and Gigi Hadid, but she was aiming to get there.

With Sasha there, she didn’t feel so alone in the big city. It made her move a lot easier to handle but also there was just something about the city of New York and all of its noise that made Nelle feel at her calmest. She hadn’t been in the city for more than a two weeks now but if she had to be completely honest with herself, this was the best she’d felt in a long time.

<<*>><<*>>

Duke pushed ahead of Nelle, clearly already knowing his way around their block. He sniffed along a passerby's shoe, received a compliment from a passing child, and then decided he has enough the outdoors. He led the way back to the loft.

Nelle had just passed her building lobby’s front desk, when the security officer called her back. She looked down at Duke, where he was already looking up at her as in saying Oh shit, what did we do?

“Padilla, right?” the officer asked her from behind his desk. Nelle nodded slowly. “A package arrived for you while you were gone. Delivery guy didn’t want to leave it outside your door.” He said this as he retrieved a rather large box from the floor next to him. He heaved it over the desk and slid it over to her. She glared at the box hesitantly, not sure if she could carry it up to the 5th floor by herself.

“It’s not as heavy as it looks.” Security said, noticing her expression.

She thanked him for holding her package, grabbed the box awkwardly… he was right. It was not as heavy as it looked, then proceeded, with Duke at her feet, to the elevators.

Nelle barely made it inside her loft with the enormous box. Sure it didn’t weigh a ton, but five floors was a long time to be carrying a box.

Duke ran in, going straight to his water bowl near the kitchen. He didn’t care when Nelle set the cardboard box next to him. She went into one of her kitchen drawers, pulling out a knife to cut through the tape sealing the flaps down.

There were five thin, but square shaped boxes inside with a thousand packing peanuts. She made sure to carefully remove the small boxes without making a mess of the peanuts. She couldn’t risk Duke swallowing one up. The thought of telling Calum if such thing happened nauseated her.

Nelle was in the midst of opening the first thin box, when there was a knock on her door. Duke peeked around the kitchen corner to look at the door suspiciously. He growled a bit as Nelle went up the door.

“Duke… it’s just Sasha.” She clarified after peeping through the door hole and swinging the door open.

Sasha sauntered in, wearing a very see-through top and what looked like plastic pants. Her feet kicked off the six-inch heels with a sigh of relief. One heel slid close to Duke; he growled at it.

“Yeah, pipsqueak. It’s just me.” Sasha stuck her tongue out at the small dog. Nelle thought she imagined Duke rolling his eyes at the model.

Duke was kind to everyone… well almost everyone. Sasha had accidentally stepped on Duke's paw on their first meet. Ever since then, he tolerated her. He let her pet him but for the most part, he just stayed clear of the tall brunette.

Without another word, Sasha found her way to Nelle’s bedroom, emerging ten minutes later in a pair of Nelle’s Halloween pajama pants that were slightly too short since she was taller than Nelle and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt that fit too big.

Nelle hadn’t noticed Sasha wearing the shirt until she came up beside her about to open the first of five packages. Seeing her friend in the shirt made her freeze, her throat closed around a sudden lump that made it almost too hard to speak.

“Hey Sash… where’d you get that shirt from?” Nelle croaked. Sasha shrugged.

“Your suitcase. Why?” the girl looked down at the shirt and suddenly a zesty whiff of it caught her nose. Sasha hardly hung out the boys, only when she been to Australia during the summers, but she knew a guy smell when she smelt it and by the way Nelle’s face had gone temporarily pale, she slowly retreated back to the bedroom because she now realized this was not just some random shirt. Sasha knew all about Luke. She knew it was a bit of a touchy subject. She quickly changed into another shirt that was lying around.

Finally, when Sasha came back into the room, Nelle opened the awaiting first package. The flaps of the skinny box opened fully until they were flat against the kitchen counter surface. Staring up at her were four familiar faces in various shades of yellow, violet, and blue. The word YOUNGBLOOD was written across the middle in a graffiti red font. Nelle carefully lifted the plastic entrapped vinyl record from the cardboard.

Sasha, hovering over her friend’s shoulder, whistled lowly. “Damn, you didn't tell me Cal looked that good now!”

Nelle snickered and threw back a playful hit to Sasha's side. “I've tried to hook y’all up multiple times. You two just hate love so much.” Sasha scoffed as she pulled the new record from Nelle’s grip. She flipped it over to see the back and the track listing.

“Oh, I’ve heard Want You Back just the other day. Was Luke singing about you?” Sasha mused as she put the vinyl down and helped open the other boxes. There were two more of the same record, two CDs, and finally at the very bottom of the original box under the packing peanuts was the band’s clothing merch to go along with the new era.

Nelle ran her hand over the material of one of the shirts that showcased the boys' faces. Her fingers lingering over Luke’s face. “Nah. That song was written before I left.”

Sasha’s eyebrow quirked up, but she shrugged her shoulders. She held up one of the CD albums. “Should we listen?” Nelle nodded. “Good, because we were going to regardless.”

<<*>><<*>>

Nicole: Welcome back everyone. If you’re just tuning in, we have 5 Seconds of Summer in the studio right now! They’ve just released their new album and they were thoughtful enough to stop by today to talk about it. Guys, why don’t y’all say hello again.

Michael: Hey, I’m Michael.

Ashton: I’m Ash.

Calum: Calum, here.

Luke: And I’m Luke. We’re 5 Seconds of Summer.

Ryan: We have a few more questions from our callers. This one is from Mary: Youngblood is obviously the principal track seeing as it’s also the name of the album. Did you know that that was going to be the name of it or was it like a damn, we forgot to name the album, quick, just pick a song to name it after kind of thing?

Michael: HA! Yeah, that last option. Without a doubt.

Ashton: No, really! It was. We had other titles that we were referring the album to during the recording session, but we had to scrap a bunch of songs and basically start over. The album wasn’t fully completed and to our satisfaction until just last month. We had the promo pictures, the whole works, and then they were like ‘Is this going to be named Untitled?’ and Mike was like ‘What’s our next single? Just call it that.’

Nicole: Woow! I guess your fans really know you, huh? So I’ve been listening to it pretty much on repeat and some of these songs are really deep, heart wrenching, very mature. Very different from your previous albums. Can you explain the writing process and how this album was not like the others?

Luke: With Youngblood, they gave us a lot more creative permission, I guess is the right way to put it. Our other albums were done when we were teens so lyrically and musically, they didn’t give us as much freedom as they did with YB. We had to take a break after the release and touring of the second album because we were just so worn down; our physical and mental health were at an all-time low.

Ashton: It just sucked, really. We couldn’t focus or concentrate on what was going to be our new album when we just weren’t feeling like ourselves. Halfway into our break, Want You Back just came to me. When I played it through for the first time to the guys, everything else just came naturally from there. I guess that would be the rawness and deep, wrenching sound you hear so different from our previous work.

Ryan: One of our listeners is asking if any of the songs are about anyone in particular. Girlfriend maybe?

Calum: Umm… no? Ha, I don’t think so. At least none of the songs that I input in aren’t about anyone. I mean… sure, we take from our past experiences and put them into song, but for me, that’s a no.

Michael: Cal is anti-love, everyone. I think, like Cal said, we take from our past experiences; we’ve been up, down, and around the world for a long time. That does it make difficult to be in a relationship with someone and actually make it work. I’ve tried, Ash has tried, we all have. It’s just not in our cards right now.

Ashton: Unless you count our personal assistant…

Nicole: Whoa! Personal assistant? Who’s dating the personal assistant? … … Listeners, everyone is looking at Luke.

Ryan: Aww, he’s blushing.

Calum: He’s not dating our personal assistant. What Ashton means is… our EX-assistant, who had been with us since before the beginning, ya know, quit on us just before we released Youngblood the single. We’ve never been with any other assistant than her. So, it’s been challenging to say the least and Luke, who’s probably the most dependent person EVER, has been having a grueling time adjusting without her here.

Ashton: Yeah, yeah! Nelle was the best! She was like f*cking top-notch. I think like Rihanna, One Direction before their hiatus, uhh, I want to also say Fifth Harmony have tried to hire her when she was still with us. She’s like the fifth member of the band. She’s the fifth Second.

Michael: Dude, that was lame. But so damn true. Funny story, she used to come out in a lot of our paparazzi pictures and the fans would just ugh, be so nasty to her because they thought she was one of our girlfriends or whatever. We had to come out with a statement saying like yo, chill, she’s just our assistant, she means no harm, she’s just walking me to McDonalds… Then the fans were like OMG Nelle has the best style and she’s so beautiful blah blah blah. So, she’s a Yale student now with one of those influencer instas… so make sure to follow @seeyouneller…

<<>><>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

The hotel room was tense. No one dared to make a sound as Luke paced back and forth. His fury running off him, his hands were clenched at his sides, his mouth in a scowl, his light blue eyes were dark as the ocean floor.

Calum nervously looked at his blonde friend, worried that even just glancing at him might cause Luke to erupt. The longest five minutes passed before Luke stopped walking. He turned his body to the cowering three. He inhaled and then signed the heaviest sigh.

“I swear, you have the biggest fucking mouth!” Luke exclaimed towards Ashton.

Ashton shook his head, his red locks bouncing around his head. The newly dyed red hair matched Ashton’s hot head nature and with Luke going off on his, Ashton didn’t know how much longer he could hold it in.

“It was just a statement! I didn’t exactly say Oh Luke is dating our ex-assistant because it’s not fucking true. It was just a quip. You two left off on… whatever the fuck ya’ll left off on, so… It was nothing, Luke.”

Luke glared at the drummer. His breathing was hard, making it look like his whole body was shaking. His fists were clenched at his side, knuckles white to the bone.

“Yeah, dude. I mean, it could have been me who was dating her.” Michael chimed in. “Sorry we looked at you. I don’t know what to really say… It’s just one interview of like a hundred that we’re going to do. No one is going to get anything out of it.”

Calum, who had remained quiet this whole time, suddenly cleared his throat. His friends all turned to him, Luke’s eyebrow raising in a bold way.

“You know we are in New York though.” Calum started. “And we were on satellite radio… You guys remember Sasha… Nelle’s other best friend. Would spend the summer with her every other year? Had braces for like ever then the last summer she visited, she was super hot?”

“Yes, we know you have the hots for her.” Ashton said exasperatedly. “What about her?”

“Anyway, she texted me. She heard the interview. Nelle listen to it. No biggie.” Calum tried to smile, but failed tremendously. Michael darted his eyes to Luke.

“We didn’t say anything bad about her. She’s fine, right? Fuck… I should text her. We should ask her to get dinner with us. She’s back at the loft, right?” Ashton pulled his phone out his pocket as he spoke. He was already tapping rapidly on his phone before anyone could answer.

Luke furrowed his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side. “You’ve been talking to her?”

At this question, Ashton slowly lowered his phone to his lap. He gulped audibly. His words were stuck in his throat. He hadn’t meant to slip up. It had been decided that he with Michael and Calum were not going to tell Luke where Nelle was living at. He had already tried to follow her to Australia once and London.

It had been unpredicted what each member would go through at Nelle’s departure. Calum was sad for a few days; he wasn’t sure what to do with himself without his travel buddy, but quickly adjusted to the new assistant. Michael, too, was upset, but he was adapting well. Ashton wallowed for a bit, maybe more so than Calum and Michael, because like Luke, he still crushed way too hard on Nelle. He knew that there was nothing ever going to happen between the two; he’d realized that Nelle did have feelings for Luke, so he had to get over it, and she was always a text or phone call away, so the adjusting wasn’t too difficult. It was just she was not there anymore, physically.

However, Luke went through a tantrum phase. Anything the new assistant did was absolutely wrong. He blew up at the smallest things. If he asked for room temperature water, but got slightly cool water, he would throw a bitch fit. He distanced himself from the band for a bit. He only spoke with them when they had shows or interviews. He’d stayed locked up in his bus bunk, hotel room, wherever they were staying at. He’d text Nelle and she’d never reply. He had tried to go Home whenever he’d spoken with his mother and she told him that Nelle had just left her house. He tried to go to London when he’d overheard Michael leaving a rather upsetting voicemail about her disowning them for Mali-Koa. The sudden vastness of her being not there threw him for a loop. This crush, intense liking, feeling for her was messing with him severely. If she’d departed the band at any other time, he knew he wouldn’t be reacting this way. She just had to leave when his emotions for her had just blossomed.

Fuck.

Calum suddenly raised up from his spot on the couch. He was nervously spinning his phone in hand, checking the time after every third spin.

Suddenly he stopped, facing Luke. Calum’s head tilted slightly, confused at once.

“I just don’t fucking get it.” He mused. This time it was Luke to look bewildered. “Why? Why are suddenly so strung up on Nelle? You’re acting so clingy and it’s weird. You’ve never shown any interest in her. We go on hiatus, start touring again and all of sudden you’re acting like her boyfriend. Giggling, sleeping in her room, fighting to sit next to her, inside jokes…”

“Ya know… now that you’re saying it like that, it definitely seems like Luke is keeping something from us.” Michael chimed in. Ashton’s head perked up towards the front man. Could Luke been harboring a secret this long, months on end? Luke was never good with keeping quiet.

Luke’s eyes darted around his bandmates. His scowl dropping, being replaced with nervous lip chewing and nervous hand twisting.

He inhaled and exhaled heavily.

“We kissed.” He blurted out after what felt like minutes of awkward silence and three pairs of eyes awaiting eagerly.

Michael clutched his imaginary pearls, his very exaggerated gasps filling the room.

“What? When? Where? HoooOOOOoOW?” he howled. Calum shot him an annoyed glance.

Calum was neither shocked nor upset about the statement. He just wanted to know what happened between his two best friends. He just wanted his band to go back to normal.

“It was when we were on break.” Luke exclaimed. Ashton’s eyebrow raised. He recalled him spending time with Nelle, not anymore than usual, yet she never brought up the fact that she had kissed one of his best friends.

“Well that explains fucking everything.” Michael stated sarcastically. “C’mon, there’s gotta be more.”

Luke sighed, shaking his head.

“I was supposed to be doing my therapy sessions, but every time I'd get in the car, I’d have these intense anxiety attacks that kept me from driving. I told Cal and he suggested he drive me… I said okay and on the next time I went to his house so we could ride together. He wasn’t there but Nelle was.

“She was supposed to be on vacation just like us but I explained to her what had happened and she insisted. She took me to my session and we got lunch afterwards. It was weird. We didn’t say much, just made polite conversation.

“On my next session, same thing happened. Cal forgot, wasn’t home, Nelle took me. It became a routine. She took me to all my sessions even after I objected to wasting her time and I could easily get my mom or one of you to take me.

“The day that Ash came up with Want You Back…” Luke paused, his cerulean blues looking towards Calum wearily. “After the session, I was reading the texts from you, telling me to all meet at Cal's because Ashton called a band meeting so we got there but obviously no one was there yet. Nelle invited me into her house. I’d never been inside but that time we helped her and Cal move in…

“By this time we had kind of become friends but there was this tension and I know she felt it too. Next thing I know we're making out… like full-on making out, with her pulling me towards her room. We get in there and we collapse on her bed. I remember black everything and lavender sheets. It smelled like her pop rocks smelling lotion with a twinge of weed. We're kissing. Intensely.”

Luke stopped talking again. All the boys were staring at him, in awe of the story he had been struggling to keep internal. Calum noticed the way Luke reached up to place a hand on his chest; he clutched the material of his gray shirt, a far off in the distance glassy gaze on his handsome face.

“She heard Calum’s car on the driveway before I did. I’d been so absorbed in her, thinking how the fuck is this happening? Is this really fucking happening right now! She separated from me so fast that I felt literally cold and empty. Then she acted like nothing happened. She didn’t say anything about it. Just went on like… as if it just didn’t occur.

“But I couldn’t forget. I tried to talk to her about it and she just acted like she didn’t know what I was talking about so I did the same. Then we started touring again and working on the new album and it was a distraction. A good one… until I realized that I liked her. That’s why I was getting to know her, bothering her, hanging around her. She couldn’t tell me no knowing that it would look suspicious to you. I think she gave in to me eventually because I know she feels the same. She feels the same way I feel for her.

“And I'm sorry. I’m sorry to all three of you for keeping this secret. For being a fucking asshole. I just… I think it’s beyond the like stage. I think I’m like… at the L-word stage.”

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings #calum hood #michael clifford #ashton irwin #please dont regret me #luke hemming imagines #5 second of summer imagines #5sos imagine

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outerspaceisbetterthannothing · 5 years

Note

heyyy! congratulations on reaching 500 followers 💜 i hope i’m not too late to send a request for your follower celebration blurb week so,, prompt 51 from the 100 prompts of fluff (part 2) list and prompt 74 from the Drabble List #2. with ash 🥺

Hello! Thank you for your message! 😍 And no, you weren’t late to the party at all. Sorry this took me some time 😓 I know one of the prompts you’ve sent was from the fluff list, but it end up hella angsty (with the happy ending tho) and i hope you’ll forgive me for that. Anyway, i love you and i hope you like it 🖤🖤🖤

Your hands were shaking uncontrollably. Your mind was trying to proceed at least one finished thought and failing every time. You knew only one thing. You had to leave this place and you had to do that before he comes back. You had to leave but you couldn’t, cause he locked the door when leaving and you had no key.

So you were just sitting on the floor, clinging on your knees and shaking with your whole body in shock after what you’ve been through. You had no idea how much time you’d spent like this, when you saw your way out. Your phone fell under the sofa and that’s probably why he didn’t take it when left. You stood on your knees and stretched to grab your phone, your body aching in protest.

You almost cried when you saw it was working. It had only nine percent of charge, but that was enough to make one call. You hesitated for the moment. You couldn’t call the emergency services, you just weren’t ready to talk to strangers and explain them what happened to you and how you of all people happened to get in a situation like that. You could call your friends, but you doubted they’d pick up so late and you would need to explain them everything and you had no time. What an irony it was, you thought, looking at a little black device in your hand. The only person you could rely on the situation like this was the last person you wanted to call. You took a deep breath, unblocked your phone and dialed the number you couldn’t erase from your memory even if you tried. And you never tried.

You were listening to the beeping praying he actually picked up and fearing that. But you knew that if he didn’t help you, no one would.

“Hello?” you heard. You didn’t realise how not ready to hear his voice you were until he spoke. And it broke down your dam, tears streaming down your face. You could just sit there on the floor, sobbing and listening to his questions.

“Y/n, just answer me, baby, where are you?” Ashton almost pleaded on the other side.

You knew your phone wouldn’t last long, so you got all the strength you still had and told him the address he knew himself.

“Is Mark there?” Ashton asked with metal in his voice.

“No,” you sobbed, “he locked me up and left.”

“I’ll be there in ten,” Ashton promised. “Just hold on, stay on the phone with me, okay?”

You heard him getting out of the house and the sounds of car door open and close an the engine start.

“My phone’s gonna die soon,” you said, wiping tears off your checks.

“You wanna hang up?”

“No, just saying so you don’t freak out when it happens,” you explained and chuckled through your tears, remembering how overworried he could be sometimes.

“I’m already freaking out, so,” he informed you, as you heard car horns in the distance.

“Please, don’t go on the red,” you asked.

“Too late for that.”

You heard his heavy laugh and felt the burning in your ribs weaken a little.

Your phone died when Ashton was already parking. You heard his heavy steps on the stairs in no time and then loud bang on the door showed he was seriously ready to knock out the door. For your utter surprise he succeeded on the second attempt, the door hanging on the upper hinge only behind him.

Ashton was standing there in his sweats and crumpled tee and you realised he got straight out of bed on your first call. He looked around to make sure there was no one else there and kneeled in front of your, his hand cupping your burning cheek.

“I’m gonna kill him,” he whispered, running his fingers over the handprint you knew you had on your face.

And then you started crying again and he hugged you. You had to swallow your moan at how your ribs hurt from Ashton squeezing you, but he heard your sharp inhale and let go of you instantly.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his hands on your shoulders, his eyes scanning your body in search for injuries. “Are you in pain? What the fuck did he do to you?”

You shook your head, trying to stop your tears. “Just take me away from here,” you asked. And he didn’t need you to repeat.

Ashton tried to pick you up to carry you, but you insisted on walking. You didn’t bother with closing the door, too busy with getting away from this damned place. The whole car ride Ashton was looking at you at any moment he could take his eyes off the road, but you weren’t looking back. You turned to your window and was watching streets flow past you. You couldn’t take looking at him, not after everything you’ve done to him and everything that happened next. You didn’t see where he was going until he pulled up at your house, too busy drowning in regret. You started unbuckling your seat belt as he opened his door.

“Wait, let me help you,” he dropped and appeared on your side of the car in two seconds. He opened the door and helped you out. He locked the car and looked at you fallen face.

“What?” he asked, not getting what upsetted you. “Don’t wanna be home? It’s alright, we can go to my place.”“No, it’s just-” you shook your head, “i just don’t have keys. I think I left my purse in the bar we were before.”

Ashton smiled and fished the keys on a familiar keyring out of his pocket.

“You still have them?” you gasped in disbelief.“You didn’t ask for them when you were leaving, so, I don’t know, I thought I might need them again some day,” he explained, his cheeks go pink.

You only smiled to that. You two entered the house and got into your apartment. Ashton turned on all the table lamps, knowing how you didn’t like bright lights at night and looked back at you.

“I’m gonna run you a bath, yeah?”

You nodded again and turned to check if the door was locked as soon as he disappeared in the bathroom. You understood there was no need to be afraid with Ashton by your side. Plus Mark never had the keys to your place. But you didn’t care if you were being unreasonable. After everything you’ve been through that night, you had all the right to be scared.

You entered the bathroom quietly, Ashton looked back at you, two bottles of the bath foam in his hands.

“Vanilla or lavender?”

You shook your head, “None.”

You picked up the hem of the hoodie you were in and wanted to pull it over your head, but stopped. You looked at Ashton in hesitation.

“Let me help you,” he said, getting it wrong.

“No,” you protested. You couldn’t let him see all the marks, you knew, were already blooming on your skin. “Can you, um- Can you leave, please?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’ve seen you naked multiple times,” Ashton huffed.

“It’s not that, it’s-” you had no idea what you could say. You didn’t want him to see, but you couldn’t come up with a believable reason for him to go. “Can you just go, please?”

But he understood. That very moment he understood, you saw it in his eyes, which suddenly lost all the colour.

“Show me,” he whispered, picking up on the hem of your hoodie.

“No, Ashton,” you begged, tears rolling down again.

“I wanna see,” he said, his voice strong and demanding.

And you gave in. You lifted up your arms, letting him take the hoodie off you. He hissed the moment you let your arms fall down, the old bruises going all the way up to your left shoulder. You shivered under his angry look. You’d spent enough time with Ashton to know he was unpredictable in his anger. And he wasn’t just angry, he was furious.

“You have to promise me something, Ashton,” you said, taking his hand which was already holding your top’s hem.

“I have to promise?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yes. Promise me you won’t go seeking revenge,” you asked, meeting his eyes.

He was breathing hard, you felt a slight tremor in the hand you were holding.

“You don’t know what you’re asking me about,” he answered, his words barely audible. “No one does that to the woman I love and goes away with it.”

“He ruined enough,” you insisted. “I won’t let this ruin anything else.”

“That psycho won’t ruin anything. It will be me who will ruin him.”

“Ashton, you’ve too much to lose. Think of your career, think of your public image,” you kept admonish. “You can’t risk it all just to beat up some asshole your ex was stupid enough to get involved with.”

“No,” he answered stubbornly.

“He won’t get away with it, okay?” you breathed out.The choice was easy, either you go to the police or you let Ashton make a mess out of it. “I’ll go to the cops, tomorrow. I’ll go to them, I promise. But you’re not getting into that. I won’t let it ruin your career.”

Ashton looked at you. That was exactly how it used to be for the two of your, two stupidly stubborn people trying to win the fight. He shook his head and looked away.

“We’ll discuss my career tomorrow, okay? Now we need to get you to that bath.”

You agreed on that and finally let him take your top off. You saw by his reaction you probably had a huge bruise on your rib cage but you didn’t wanna see it, not yet. The water was terribly hot, but soothing and relaxing. You almost cried again at how wonderful it felt. Ashton made sure you were settled and stood up.

“Where are you going?”

“To the kitchen,” he explained with a sigh. “Do you still keep whiskey in the left cupboard?”

“I don’t wanna drink,” you refused, looking away, the memories flashing by in your mind. “It all started with the alcohol.”

“The whiskey is for me. You’re getting camomile tea,” he snorted and left the bathroom.

You had the tiniest doubt about where he was really going, but the noise of the kettle and Ashton going through your kitchen cupboards calmed you down.

He came back in couple minutes, put your favourite cup with the tea on the countertop next to the bath and sat down right on the floor, whiskey glass in his hand. You didn’t say anything, were just sitting there, he on the floor and you in the bath, and looking at each other, eyes full of sorrow and something deeper, which you were afraid to name.

When the water got cold and drinks were finished, he helped you out of bath and enveloped you in the biggest towel he could find in your cupboard. Ashton let you get dressed while he was cleaning up the bathroom. Then he turned off all the lamps in your flat, except the one in your bedroom, and got into bed with you, not even letting you ask for him to stay. You hadn’t fallen asleep so fast since you left him couple months ago.

The morning was difficult to say the least. You never had that waking up and not remembering what happened. It seemed like your brain was processing and lining up all necessary information before it made you wake up. So when you opened your eyes that morning the only thing you actually wanted was to fall asleep again. Not to remember all that shit from last night and not to feel the pain what seemed like all over the body. But when you did open your eyes, you realised you couldn’t sleep anymore. Because Ashton wasn’t by your side.

You almost jumped on the bed, wincing instantly at the dull pain in the ribs. He couldn’t be gone, you were persuading yourself. He couldn’t be after Mark, he promised you. And the it stuck you. He didn’t. He didn’t promise you anything. He said, you’d discuss his career later, but he didn’t promise he won’t go after Mark.

Your apartment was empty. Not a sign of Ashton anywhere, like you imagined him from the start. Your hands flew to your head. Your mind was running like the agonizing animal. What could you do? What could you possibly do to stop him? If it wasn’t too late to stop him anyway. You knew if there was a man on Earth capable of stopping Ashton from anything it was Calum. But would he listen to you? Would he even pick up if you phone him?

You rushed back into the bedroom and grabbed on your phone. Which was dead since last night. You didn’t even think about charging it. You felt the first tear roll down your face. It was okay, you tried to persuade yourself. You just needed to find the charger and it’ll work in under five minutes and you’ll call Calum and it will be okay. Everything will be okay, you kept repeating it like a mantra, going through your drawers in search of the fucking charger.

And then the unbelievable happened. You heard your apartment door open and close.

You basically ran out of bedroom to see Ashton looking at you with his eyes wide open, two cups of coffee from the nearest coffee shop and a paper bag in his hand.

“What?” he asked, not getting what was going on.

“I thought you left,” you managed to say and not breaking up completely.

“Yeah, for breakfast,” he answered, lifting up the cups and coming up to your kitchen counter to put it there. “You don’t have any coffee left. As usual, though. Don’t know what I was hoping for, you’ve never had coffee, so-”

And it crashed you. Everything that happened. Everything that you were scared could have happened. And him still being here and moaning about you not having coffee. After everything him still being here.

You lowered yourself on the floor and let the tears down. Ashton was instantly at your side, holding you, his eyes full of worry again.

“Hey, look at me,” he demanded. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you, you understand?”

You shook your head. “It’s not that, Ashton. I thought you left,’’ you tried to explain.

“And I’m never gonna leave you ever again,” he promised.

“I thought, you left to find him,” you finally formed your fear in words.

Unexpectedly, Ashton chuckled. “So after everything you’ve been through, you were afraid for me?”

You tried to laugh through your tears, but your ribs protested.

“Remind me one more time why we broke up,” Ashton tried to keep joking, but that one happened to be too sad.

You shrugged, your eyes stare at his chest. “You’ve shown me what love can feel like. And I got scared and fucked everything up and ran away. Just like I always do,” you shrugged again. Tears were running down but you dropped any attempts of stopping them. “And I’m sorry, Ashton. I’m so fucking sorry. For leaving you and for breaking your heart and for calling yesterday. I’m sorry for not saying how much I’m sorry earlier. But most of all, I’m sorry for being afraid of loving you. I know I ruined the only good thing I had in life, and I’m so so sorry for that. I just hope you’ll forgive me one day.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Ashton whispered, brining you close to his chest.

You had no idea how long you spent crying everything out on his chest, while he was rocking you carefully. But soon the tears were over. And when you both were ready to get up from the floor, he made you drink that already cold coffee and eat a bagel. And you were smiling to each other, like nothing happened and you weren’t about to spend god only knows how long at the police station, and he even tried to joke, much more successfully this time. And you were praying for it to be your second chance. And promising to all the gods you won’t screw it up this time.

#ashton irwin #ashton5sos #ashton irwin blurb #ashton irwin imagine #5sos #5sos blurb #5sos imagine #ashton irwin fanfiction #my writing #my blurb #500 followers celebration blurbs #asks #requests #viper-strike

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shaykeijser · 7 years

Text

#60 - i said get rid of it

this wasn't requested because all of my followers aren't active but i miss writing so here's this imagine :)

you were absolutely furious, it was taking all of your will power to not start throwing things and knocking over chairs. you were running around your small apartment that you shared with your boyfriend calum hood that was right outside of you both's campus, looking for any other of the death boxes.

ever since you were a young girl you had always been informed about how horrible smoking is for you, that it can lead to lung cancer and several other life damaging diseases. after you heard that your grandpa had struggled on and off with risks of cancer you had promised yourself that you would never get into the habit and would never be with anyone who was a smoker.

so when you found out freshman year of college that the brunette australian boy you had been dating for a few weeks smoked, you quickly ended things. your friends called you crazy, saying that you should have waited to see if he did it frequently or if it was a rare thing.

but you had made up your mind when your grandpa had a possible lung cancer scare. his doctor told him that a tumor he had was most likely cancer and right after that he quit smoking cold turkey. however, he got lung cancer about ten years later. knowing how much pain smoking had caused your family you didn't even want to spend time checking in on him.

after what felt like hours of waiting and waiting for your boyfriend of nearly three years to come home, the door finally opened. you ran to the door, ready to say the speech you had been preparing for ever since you saw the cigarettes hidden in the back of his night stand.

in fact, when you went to meet calum at the door you had already started your monologue.

"what the hell is wrong with you!? when i decided to get back together with you to help you quit i never thought that you would fucking go back to it!" you yelled, remembering when you had finally caved and got back together with him.

when you paused to collect yourself, you looked up to who you thought was going to be calum. however, it wasn't. it was ashton, one of his best friends, and yours.

"woah y/n, calm down. it's just me. were yelling about how calum started smoking again?" ashton asked you. as soon as he asked that your mind jumped to the worst case scenario, assuming that all of the other boys had known about him getting back into the life ruining habit. you didn't want to jump to that conclusion, but god damn it all made sense.

your voice rose to a scream, "did you know about this!? was i the only one that didn't, or did my boyfriend decide to just tell one of his friends, who also happens to be my best friend?"

flash back time bitches

"hey ash?" you asked your best friend ashton since your seventh year of primary school. at the moment you guys were on the couch together, two weeks before you both went off to college. you are both going to the same college, but your extended friend group was not.

"yeah?" he said.

you sighed, "are we going to try and make a whole group of friends, or just go stag throughout the campus together?"

"i actually mean to talk to you about this forever ago, but i'm joining a frat. so i'll have them" he looked up at you as if he was scared you would run away at any moment, "i'll still spend basically all of my time with you though."

ashton saying that made a choice you had been struggling with for a while very easy to choose, "that works perfectly! i was thinking about joinging a sorority too, i'll only do it if my roomate does though too."

ashton was apart of the same fraternity as calum, so that and you being in a sorority too made it a very easy greeting. you don't know it, but if ashton had a say in the meeting back then, and still now, he would have never let you met him if he knew how serious the relationship would go.

end of flashback time hoes

"no! of course not, you should know that i wouldn't hide something like that from you." he yelled back. right after he said it he wish he could take it back, he could tell that the last thing that you needed right now is getting yelled at by your best friend.

"hey, you have to listen to me okay? i know that right now you don't want anything to do with him, but i bet he'll have an explanation. okay?" he said, not using the same harsh tone as before. his words calmed you down.

finally, calum unlocked the door and came into the flat. he looked even more tired than when he had left this morning. granted, it was a 7 o'clock class.

his eyes lit up, "y/n! oh my god you have no idea how jealous i am of you for having later classes."

when his eyes fell on ashton he visibly stiffened. you were oblivious to it all, the way that you mainly saw ashton when calum wasn't around, the way calum happens to plan hang outs with the boys when ashton can't, and mainly the way that every three or four months they would have a huge fight about you. about how calum doesn't like ashton hanging around you when he isn't home, and that ashton can't keep using the best friends card. because everyone but you knew that ashton had been in love with you far before calum had ever met you.

"hey ash, didn't see you there." calum said, not looking at you or ashton.

"yeah, i've been meaning to come over to help y/n and you set up the sound box." he replied. ashton saying that should have made calum feel better, it was the truth, but it didn't. he no reason, but it just didn't. maybe because it was something that he wasn't able to figure out.

after less than two minutes of conversation with any of the three, you couldn't wait any longer.

"calum, i found your fucking cigarettes. i can't believe you, i said get rid of it years ago! how long? how long have you been hiding these in my home?" you attempted to yell. the more that you looked at him and tried to get angry again, the more you started forgetting. the more you felt yourself thinking that you didn't care. that you didn't care that he hid them, that he lied about it, that he had picked up the habit that caused you to break up with him in the past. you didn't care because all you could feel was love for him. and you were mad at yourself for that.

"they aren't mine, i promise!" he yelled back. you were surprised that he so able to get so mad so quickly, like this is something that you pulled out of your ass, something that didn't make any sense.

he turned to ashton, "was it you? did you point her to where they were? you must have known by now. hell, you were probably the one who made her so quick to think they're mine!" he yelled. you were shocked at why calum thinks calum would do something like that.

not letting it get to him, ashton remained calm, "wasn't me dude. she found them herself. i even told her that there's an explanation to why you have them. so instead of accusing, get explaining."

damn it calum! stay calm around him when y/n is around too, one day he'll do something that you can call him out for, calum thought.

"they're michaels. well, his girlfriends. she smokes and he's trying to have her quit. she's telling him that she did but he's finding them hidden around there place. so we're keeping them here. we agreed to not tell you because we knew that you wouldn't want them around me." he finished explaining. even though it was an elaborate plan you probably should have doubted or thought through it longer, you didn't care. you believed calum.

"i believe you. i wish you told me, but i get why you didn't...i most likely wouldn't have let you keep them here. you can now though, i trust you." you smiled up at him. you took his hands and wrapped them around you, feeling the guilt from accusing go away.

calum was so happy, standing there with you in his arms. for a moment he had thought he ruined everything. that ashton had. but no one did, you were still his. he was still yours.

lol sorry this is really long and still shitty. i want to get back into writing, so send requests. i write the maze runner, 5sos, shawn mendes, and riverdale. also, i'm totally down to write some ship fluff and imagines too. for arrowverse tv shows and riverdale. like olicity and bughead. so send requests for all of those if you want. like, reblog, and follow if ya like this, i hope to get back into writing soon! also, i'm going to try and link the prompt list somewhere here, i don't know if it'll work because i'm shit at html but i think i linked it as a source. anyways, love y'all!

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dontshootmespence · 7 years

Text

Coercion - 3

@coveofmemories @hanny-bananny Message me if you want to be tagged!

You are just about to start your new job at the BAU after years of working to get there, when a man you don’t know approaches you with an evil plan and knowledge of every sordid detail of your past. What will you do? Will you give into the man’s demands? Or will you be able to find another way out?

—-

“I’ll see you later, okay,” you said, taking Spencer’s lips in yours. He’d asked you to go out to dinner, but you told him you didn’t feel well. Which was the truth. It just happened to stem from something else that wasn’t biological.

As you made your way down the elevator and toward your car, your stomach started to churn violently. How am I supposed to do this? Since last night, when Ashton had texted you where to meet, you’d been going over every possible option in your head. You could come clean about your past, risk getting fired. But if you did, he would kill Spencer. You could run. Find your old hacker friend and ask him to set you up with a new life, but even that could results in Ashton going after the team and the man you loved anyway.

There were only two options. Take this bastard up on his ‘deal’ and find a way to outsmart him, or leave a note and take your own life. Taking your own life was a last resort. No guarantees there either. And as much shit as you’d been through, you wanted to live - you’d achieved so much.

Right now, your safest bet was to try and outsmart him. The drive toward the bad area of town was fraught with you attempting to choke down your own vomit. As you passed the dilapidated buildings of downtown DC, you found yourself remembering one of your lowest lows, just outside Decatur, Georgia.

Alone. All alone. Leslie’s not here to protect you anymore. “Tonight, under the bridge. Your client will be wearing black work pants, a red button down shirt and a black blazer. He’s got a tattoo of an infinity sign on his wrist. Don’t be late. You know what happens.”

You knew better than to disobey his orders. The last time you’d done that, you’d experience the swift strike of his calloused hand against your cheek. “Mae yourself useful, bitch. Or I don’t need you anymore.” How had you gotten into this?

Micah. The sweet, squeaky girl who’d asked if you wanted to party for money. In your desperation, you’d said yes. And now Leslie was gone and you answered to Rocco Mitchell. He owned your life. He owned you.

The tears stung your eyes as you continued to drive. It had been so long since you’d left that life behind. You scrounged and bled and cried for what you had. But you’d done it - on your own. Rocco Mitchell was your past. As you pulled up to where you were supposed to meet Ashton, you took a deep breath and wiped the tears from your eyes with the back of your sleeved arm. He couldn’t see you cry. You needed to put on the bravest face you possibly could and use his arrogance to take him down. It was that or die - and take down the ones you loved with you.

“Hello, Y/N,” he said softly, his smile making your skin crawl. He was about to hand you instructions on how to kill someone and he was smiling. “As I said before, you made a good choice. This is what you’ll need for the first one - Jennifer Jareau.”

Your heart dropped. When you looked down at your hands, you could tell by the shiny, black berries exactly what this was, and what you were supposed to do with it. It was Belladonna; the plant’s name was derived from the Italian for beautiful woman. “A perfect murder weapon for a beautiful lady like yourself,” he said, taking your palm and closing it gently around the bag of berries. “I figured I’d get her out of the way. For your sake. You’re a pawn in this, that’s all, but you do have feelings.” He shrugged. Feelings were something he wasn’t familiar with. He caressed the side of your cheek as you stared at him dead-eyed - trying not to pull away. Doing so would mean that he was getting to you, and he couldn’t see that. In this moment, you weren’t sure whether you hated Rocco Mitchell of Bentley Ashton more. If you were able to pull this ridiculously complex plan off, you’d follow Ashton to the ends of the earth to have your revenge.

There were 20 berries in your hand. A fatal dosage for an adult. “Do I need to use all of these?” you asked. You knew the answer, but you wanted to see if he knew exactly how fatal these were.

“Only a few at a time, over multiple days,” he said. “It needs to look believable. Three or four at a time would do until they’re all gone. I’ll contact you when I believe your first task has been completed.” She’s a task to you, you sick fuck? “Remember…say anything, and the man you love dies.”

With a deep breath, you turned and walked back to your car as his bodyguards came up behind you to make sure you drove away safely. Their presence put you even more on edge. The entire way home you shook with rage and fear and uncertainty.

Fifteen minutes later, you arrived home and put the berries on the counter. You put your phone next to it and grabbed a glass of wine, desperate to numb all of the thoughts going on in your head. As you swigged down an enormous gulp of old wine, which was all you had, you saw your phone blink. When you opened it, you realized you had a ton of messages - mainly from Spencer. They all said that he hoped you’d feel better in the morning, and that he loved you.

The guilt rose up in your throat and the wine started to burn as it made its way back up. You barely spun around toward the sink in time to throw up. Sobbing, you hung your head over the sink and threw up repeatedly, the wine, and eventually just bile, stinging your insides and bringing more tears to your eyes. “I have to do this,” you said into the sink. Your words reverberated off the metal and hit you in the face. “It’s the only way to save them all, even if they hate me for it.”

It had to start tomorrow. If you hesitated, you’d never do it and Ashton would take matters into his own perfectly manicured hands. Three to five berries tomorrow. With any luck, you’d be able to pull this off.

—-

Your first week on the job had gone off without a hitch, at least to everyone else. In order to ‘thank’ everyone, you brought in coffees or smoothies for everyone. “Here you go, babe,” you said to Spencer, giving him a quick kiss before heading down the hallway to give Garcia her strawberry banana smoothie.

“Oh, so good and refreshing,” she sighed. “Thank you, dear. You didn’t have to do this, but if you want to bring me smoothies all the time Im definitely not going to fight it.” You flashed her the best smile you could and turned around in time to shield your quivering lip. How am I supposed to do this to her? To all of them?

One by one, you handed everyone his or her drink. JJ’s was last. The blueberry would mask the taste of the belladonna, which was somewhat sweet in and of itself. You did your best to mask your hatred of yourself as she took her first sip of her smoothie, but again you had to turn away and bury yourself in your work so that you wouldn’t give yourself away. Right now, the belladonna was coursing through her system. Within the next couple of hours, she’d be exhibiting the first signs of poisoning - dry mouth, enlarged pupils, blurred vision, a slight fever, and it would only get worse.

About 30 minutes later, you looked over and saw that she’d finished her smoothie. Why were the minutes ticking away so slowly? Why was your own vision blurry? Why couldn’t you focus? Everything was swirling around you, threatening to swallow you whole as you sat at your desk with your pen shaking in your hand. You wanted to work. You wanted to be of some use before they all realized what you’d done and who you really were, but you couldn’t do anything. The pen was floating above the paper, unable to move.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Each second slogged by, seemingly longer than the last. It felt like you’d been sitting at your desk, moving in slow motion for days, but it had only been a few hours. Suddenly, you were brought out of your guilt-induced coma by the sweet sound of your boyfriend’s voice. “You okay, JJ?” he asked, placing the back of his palm on her head. “I think you have a fever.”

“How did you learn that trick?” she laughed. “The back of the palm is a mom trick.”

“Actually, the front of the hand is innervated by the median and ulnar nerves, which come from the lateral and medial cords of the brachial plexus. But the back of the hand is innervated mostly by the radial nerve, which comes from the posterior cord, which carries the maximum number of nerve roots. It makes sense to use the side of the hand that carries the most nerve endings because they’re what feel temperature difference, so it’s actually very scientific,” he said quickly, proud of his vast medical knowledge despite not being that kind of doctor. “You seem to be drinking a lot of water. Is your mouth dry too?”

JJ nodded her head and took another long sip of water. “I can’t focus,” she said softly. “And the light is hurting my eyes.”

Spencer bent down slightly and tilted JJ”s head toward him. “Your pupils are enlarged. You could be coming down with something.” You swallowed, your tongue almost becoming larger in your mouth and nearly choking you.

“What’s wrong with me, Doctor?” she laughed. Her smiled broke you. She would hate you for what you’d done - and you didn’t blame her.

Spencer rattled off a variety of things it could be based on her current symptoms - bacterial pneumonia, viral pharyngitis, acute sinusitis. It could be a million things. If she only knew.

As Spencer continued to ask her how she felt and when her symptoms started, you walked as quickly as you could to the bathroom, once again retching up what you’d eaten recently. Thank god there was no one else in the bathroom, because you couldn’t manage to keep yourself quiet. The tears left your eyes almost as easily as the vomit left your throat and within minutes, you were shaking and crying on the bathroom floor. Even if you managed to save everyone’s lives and defeat Ashton once and for all, you would never forgive yourself for what you’d done. This was all your fault. If you’d just thought of another way to take care of yourself on the streets, you would never have met Rocco, and then Ashton would have nothing on you. You’d be with your team hunting down the bastard like you were meant to be.

“Compose yourself,” you said quietly to yourself. If everyone hates me when this is over, I can start a new life again.

Fifteen minutes later, you left the restroom and returned to your desk. “You feeling okay, Y/N?” Spencer asked, the concern on his face only making you feel worse.

“I don’t think whatever bug I had is fully out of my system.” You lied. “Just not feeling well still.” Apparently, JJ wasn’t either, because Hotch had told her to go home.

Spencer walked over to your desk, sat at your side and pulled you close to him. “I’m sorry you’re still feeling like shit. Maybe you should go home too? No use running yourself into the ground.” That’s what I should do. Escape this bullshit.

It took everything you had not to tense up at his embrace. How were you supposed to accept this comforting hug when you were actively hurting one of his best friends? There’s no way he was going to understand. If he did, it would be a miracle. “It’s okay.” You lied again. “I’ll just go home after work and go to bed early.”

The rest of the day slogged by. Although it was a little faster than before considering the evidence of what you were doing wasn’t staring you in the face. At 5pm on the dot, you got up to leave and Spencer followed closely behind. “Still gonna go home?” he asked. “Is there anything I can go?” God, I am a horrible person and I don’t deserve him.

“Just continue to be you,” you replied.

He kissed you on the forehead as you got into the elevator and made your way down to the parking garage. “Feel better, Y/N,” he said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Spence,” you said honestly. It was one of the most genuine things you’d ever said. For a few moments, you didn’t break his gaze, hoping that down the line, when he saw you for who you were, he’d remember this moment. The profiler in him would be able to remember the look in your eyes and knew you weren’t lying. “So much.”

Your wellspring of emotion caught him slightly off guard, but he was brought out of his confusion when his pocket rumbled.”Hello…Will?”

Oh no. You weren’t ready. Has the dosage you’d given her been enough to kill her? It shouldn’t have been. Spencer’s face dropped as Will spoke. “We’ve gotta go,” he said, his voice quivering with panic.

You did the best you could to shake the fear out of your voice before you spoke. “What’s wrong?”

“JJ started staggering around the house a few minutes ago, and then she collapsed.”

#hannah's classic criminal minds quote challenge #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #dontshootmespence #coercion

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malumad · 7 years

Text

Unexpected // Calum Hood (part 2)

word count : 1.4k

pairing : y/n and calum

requested : yes!!

note : so sorry for the delay, guys! but i was really falling out of love with 5sos. now i’m just in it for the music and the fanfics lol. haven’t edited this so hope you enjoy it!!

p.s. the slfl here is in indonesia so it’s on march if you’re confused with the months and whatnot

(part 1)

You pushed your body to the seemingly endless crowd, trying to find a good spot that was close enough for you to see the band, but also far enough that neither Calum nor the rest of the band could see you. You were crossing your fingers, hoping no one would notice you because you’d just put your plain black sweater on so no one could recognize you as the girl who Calum was searching for. You had no intentions on revealing who you are and you’d really appreciate the heavens if your plan worked out smoothly.

You sighed as you slid next to a girl with official merchandises all over her body. You didn’t want any of this to happen. You were supposed to ask him to sing with you and he wasn’t supposed to notice you. You believed a lot of fans had asked them to sing with them, so you didn’t understand how your encounter could be any different.

You let your gaze dance around the room, studying all the people in it. Just as your eyes fell on the drum, the lighting dimmed and shrieks of excitement filled your ears. You couldn’t help but smile, knowing that you had waited all your life to see them perform and here you were, somehow winning a chance to this place. Your breath hitched as the band members walked in. You were so going to cry.

It had been a couple of months since the last time you saw 5 Seconds of Summer. You were lucky enough that after the event was finished, nobody mentioned Calum’s girl anymore. The news died down quickly enough that people thought Calum was just messing around with the fans. Some even said that the girl in the picture was “a friend of Calum’s who loves to mess around”. Relieved was quite the understatement of the year.

Now, though, you were faced with a situation that could possibly change your life, so you had to play it right.

“But they cost so much!” Your friend, Bella, whined. “Now I’m just sad.”

“C’mon, Bells. It is what it is. I guess we just have to choose the Silver one, it’s the least we can afford.” Your eyes studied the layout of the venue. Silver was quite good, actually. Not that far from the stage and the price was alright. You were pissed at how expensive the tickets were, comparing them to One Direction’s concert just a year ago.

“Well, I didn’t go to that fcuking event with you, so no, I don’t think I’m going to be OK with just Silver.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “How are my parents going to agree with this. They cost a fortune.”

You leaned back on your bed, looking at your friend as she paced around the room. “I mean, I guess I can use some of my savings, but they’re still not that much.”

“My parents are going to kill me if I spend that much money for a concert, though. You know how they can be.” Bella chuckled, sitting at the foot of the bed.

“They won’t even let you buy merch with your own money.” You nodded. “I guess Silver is fine, then. But we still need to at least win that Meet and Greet.”

“Ugh.” You let your body fall on the mattress so you were on your side. “Kinda not want to see Calum.”

“Chill, (Y/N). It’s not like he’s going to remember you or anything. Sounds Live Feels Live is not going to happen in another, like, four months.”

“But he knows what I look like, damn it. Next thing you know he’s going to propose to me on stage.” Bella giggled and grabbed her phone, which was next to my laptop.

“You’re so cliche. Anyways, let’s get those tickets before we got the back rows.”

“I don’t want to do this,” You said, gripping Bella’s forearm like your life depended on it. You’d come to the venue feeling alright, but then you just straight up wanted to puke everything in your guts. You and your friend did, eventually, won the chance to have a Meet and Greet, courtesy of your very sappy post on how much you love 5 Seconds of Summer and their music.

“Btch, I’m not going in there without you. I need to record you and Calum and you need to record me and Luke so don’t you dare back down from this, okay? Was my prep talk not enough?” You pouted, pursing your lips and looking at the entrance. It was one of those “now or never” moments that made your heart flip. And even though you knew you weren’t exactly ready, you still braced yourself and went through the procedure.

You knew you were fcuked the moment the band members entered the room. Yeah, there were around 20ish fans in the unnecessarily large room, yet you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your eyes wandered on their physical appearance, taking note on their choice in clothing. You let your gaze linger on Calum, the way his curls having minds of their own, the way his nose just takes up 50% of his face and yet he still looked attractive, also the way his body have gained a lot of mass-- or the way you liked to say it, thick.

Your eyes went down to see his hands when you felt Bella nudging your side, snapping you out of your shameless ogling. She nodded at Calum’s direction and you turned your head to see him and realized why Bella had done that. Calum was looking at you. And not just the normal “it’d be nice to remember their faces” but more to the “wait have I seen this person before?” type of look. You averted your eyes to see the photographer taking random photos.

When it was finally time to have group pictures, you deliberately let all the other fans go first, despite Bella’s whines. As you walked up to greet the band members, Michael suddenly widened his eyes and said “Hey! I remember you!”

“Oh no,” you mumbled and Bella nudged you once more.

“Hi, guys. Can’t wait to see you rock tonight. We love the album so much.” She said to them, trying hard not to lose her chill and forgot how to speak English.

“Thanks! What’s your name?” Ashton asked already positioning himself so that you and Bella were in the middle. You couldn’t help but notice that Calum was standing next to you.

“I’m Bella, and this is (Y/N).” You glared at your friend and she shrugged.

“Well, at least we know your name. You kinda left me hanging for a bit there.” Calum said as the photographer gave signals with his hands. You smiled for the camera, not really knowing what to do. You could feel Calum’s arm around your shoulder and you tried not to think much of it since it was a common gesture used by them all. Then the person told you all to do random poses, so naturally, you made a pouty look with you face and made a peace sign with your right hand. Calum, though, decided to lightly pinch your cheek with his hand, which made you furrow your eyebrows just as the camera flashed.

“Alright, we’re done,” said the photographer. You turned your head to look at Calum only for him to give you a sheepish smile. You touched his hand to make him let go of you but instead, he pulled you in for a hug. You sighed, letting yourself hug him back and heard Bella said “finally goddamn.”

“You know, I kind of hoped I’d see you again.” You stilled as you hear his words, your heart clenching.

“And why is that?”

“Don’t know. You’re a bit unexpected, I guess. Want to know you better.” You shook your head and pulled away.

“I can’t, Calum. I’m fine with being friends, but no more than that. I’m not risking it. Besides, I’m only 17.”

“I’ll take what I can get. I’m calling you my wife, though.” You stared at him unbelievably. Your insides were literally all over the place at the moment, since Calum’s your favorite, but you kept your face looking indifferent even when you know your face was red like crazy. Calum chuckled and wrapped you once more in his arms. “You’ll be cheering for me, right?”

should i do a part three?

#my writing #calumhood #calum imagine #5 seconds of summer #5sos #imagine #5sos imagine #5sos fic #5sos au #calum hood imagine

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calpalirwin · 4 years

Text

Parent Teacher Conference

A/N: Anon request- Okay but single dad ashton au where he doesnt wanna risk getting his kid involved with a woman but ur the new teacher for them and yall meet and he falls madly for u

Content: All the feels! And swearing.

And away, and away we go!

~~~

“C’mon, Seb, get a move on,” I called out, peeking my head into the bathroom.

My carbon-copy of a son with a mop of brown-blond curls turned to me, toothbrush in his mouth, and grinned. “Dad! I’m in big kid school now!” his voice muffled around the toothbrush.

“Yeah, and you’re gonna be late if you don’t step it up a notch.”

4th grade. My 9 year old was going into 4th grade. I choked back the memories, refusing to cry, because “Dad, stop crying, it’s only 4th grade.”

“You’re right, bud, it’s only 4th grade,” I had told him, tucking him into bed last night. To him, it was only 4th grade. For me, this was also the anniversary of the day his mom left us 8 years ago.

I looked at my son, his brand new sneakers that would have scuff marks on them when I picked him up later, a long sleeved flannel tied around his waist. God, if it weren’t for the fact that he was clearly me- the eyes and the giggle were a dead give away- I swear he was Luke’s. “Uncle Lu tell you to dress like that?” I asked.

The curls bounced as his head bobbed up and down. “He said it was cool. And I wanna be cool, Dad. It’s 4th grade.”

I imitated my head exploding. God, when did this kid grow up? Seemed like just yesterday his entire body could fit in my hands.

“Dad? Dad!”

I shook my head, clearly the thoughts. “Yeah, bud?”

“Can we go now?” he asked, a Spider-Man backpack slung over one of his shoulders.

“C’mon, then,” I smiled.

~~~

It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried dating since Seb’s mom left us. I had. I was just very selective. I didn’t want to bring a woman home, have things go wrong, and be left to pick up not only my broken pieces but my son’s as well.

My heart was one thing. I’d been known to be reckless with it. But, my son’s was another matter entirely. He was too young to know heartache.

Plus every time I had to cancel a date last minute because Seb got sick, or left a date early because Seb called me in tears asking where I was, didn’t lend itself to much romance. Girls could go on and on about how hot single dads were, but what they failed to realize is that my son would always be my number 1 priority.

~~~

“Mr. Irwin, I’d like to talk to you about Sebastian. Is there anyway you can meet with me after school? Say 2:45?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. School had only been in session for a month. It couldn’t be time for parent-teacher conferences already. Which only meant one thing- something had happened with Seb. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Who was that?” Calum asked me.

“Seb’s teacher. She wants to talk with me after school.”

“Isn’t his teacher hot?” Mike asked.

“What? No… I mean, she’s attractive, sure. But, she’s his teacher.”

“Ooo, Ash like the teacher!” Luke teased.

I felt my face flush. Alright, maybe I did a little. She was attractive, stunningly so, and she was a teacher. Which meant she understood kids. And maybe, that just might mean she understood single dads.

~~~

“Hello?” I asked, sticking my head in the classroom at 2:45.

The bell had rung fifteen minutes ago and I still hadn’t seen my son. Now, I saw why, as he was hunched in his desk reading, a scowl on his face.

“Dad!” his face lit up when he heard my voice.

“Keep reading, Sebastian,” his teacher’s voice said firmly.

“Yes ma’am…”

“Mr. Irwin, glad you could make,” she smiled softly at me. “Please, have a seat.”

I moved to sit in chair she had just besides her desk. “So, you wanted to talk?” I asked.

“Yes. It seems your son had an incident with a classmate on the playground today.”

“Seb?” I asked, fighting to keep my voice level.

“Alex is a jerk! And she took away my recess!” he shouted at me.

“Sebastian,” both his teacher and I warned, and then I had to work at keeping the smile off my face.

“Anyway,” she said, turning her attention back to me. “There was an incident. Both boys lost their recess privileges for the rest of this week and next week.”

“You keep saying ‘incident,’ what happened exactly?”

“I keep saying ‘incident,’ Mr. Irwin, because your son is an incredibly… strong-willed individual.”

“You can just say he’s stubborn. And it’s Ash, please.”

“I prefer the term strong-willed, Ash,” she smiled at me again and I liked the way it was genuine and soft, her eyes crinkling at the edges. And I liked the way my name sounded rolling off her lips. And I was in trouble.

“So, my stubborn son won’t tell you what happened?”

“Precisely. And I’m not one to involve admin if I can help it. But in order to not involve admin, I need to know what happened. That’s where I’m hoping you can come in.”

“Seriously, Seb? She just said she’s not gonna send you to the principal, and you’re mad she took away recess from you?”

“She wouldn’t take my recess away if she knew what Alex said!” His book was now closed and clenched in his fists, vibrating with his tiny rage.

“Sebastian, I would love to know what Alex said,” she told him, keeping herself calm even though my son was far from it himself. Was that a special gift all teachers had, or just her? “But, every time I ask, you just tell me he was being a jerk. Maybe you’d like to tell your dad instead?”

“He is a jerk!” he screamed, throwing his book. “He’s… he’s… he’s a fuckin asshole!”

“Sebastian James Irwin! What the hell has gotten into you? Start explaining yourself, now!”

His face scrunched up as he realized I was now angry with him. “He said I didn’t have a mom!” he wailed at me before bursting into tears and running out of the classroom.

I fell back in my seat, watching him run off, my heart shattering in my chest. He was right. This Alex kid was a fuckin asshole.

“You okay?” her voice sounded, her hand touching mine.

“I thought I was doing everything right…”

“You are. Sebastian is by far one of the best students I’ve had. He’s so kind and polite to everybody. He’s funny, too. Which is why today surprised me. It seemed so out of character.”

“I better go after him,” I sighed, getting up.

“I’ll come with,” she offered, getting up herself.

It was the first time a girl had offered to come with me before when dad duty called. I couldn’t help it. I smiled at her.

“Now, I see where Sebastian gets his smile from,” she smiled back.

~~~

We found him huddled in the corner of the highest part of the play structure.

“Would you get down, please?” I asked from the ground. Climbing up there myself was going to be a bitch.

“No! Go away! I hate you!”

“Love you too, bud!”

“Where’s my mom?”

“I don’t know, bud. Come down so we can talk, please.”

“No!”

“That wasn’t a question, Seb.”

“I don’t care!”

“You have to the count of 3 to get down here, or I’m coming up there,” I said, really hoping I didn’t have to go up there after him. “1.”

“No!”

“2!”

“I hate you!”

3!” I started my ascent. My kid, the fuckin brat that he was, waited until I was on the middle platform before launching himself down the slide. “You stay right there,” I warned, moving to go back down.

“Sebastian,” I heard her voice say as he started to run. “Are we making smart choices right now, or are we acting on impulse?”

“Impulse…” he answered, stopping in his tracks.

“And, what do we want to do?”

“Make smart choices…”

“So, what do we do to calm our impulses, so we can make smart choices?”

“Breathe…”

“Alright, breathe with me. Ready?”

“Yeah…”

“And, inhale, 3, 4, 5, 6. Hold. Exhale, 4, 3, 2 , 1,” she coached as I watched. Was she trying to make me fall in love with her? “Better?”

“Better…”

“Alright, you ready to tell us what’s wrong?”

“Alex said-” he started, already getting upset again.

She held up a finger. “Calmly, Sebastian. What upset you?”

“My feelings were hurt when Alex said I didn’t have a mom.”

“Why?”

“Because it made me feel sad.”

“Why?”

“Because I have Dad. And Uncle Cal, Lu, and Mikey. And grandma. And Auntie Lauren, and Uncle Harry. And Auntie Crystal and Auntie Sierra.”

“Wow, sounds like you have a lot of people who love you.”

“But, I don’t have a mom…”

“Lots of people don’t have moms. Or dads. Spider-Man didn’t have his parents. Was he still loved?”

“Yeah…”

“So, what’s wrong?”

“Am I broken?”

“No, Seb,” I finally spoke up. Great. My life had come full circle. I was the man without a dad, raising a son without a mom. And now he was asking himself the same questions I used to ask myself. I crouched down to be eye level with him. “You know why you don’t have a grandpa?”

“Because… I dunno…”

“Because I don’t have a dad.”

“Where is your dad?”

“I dunno. But what I do know is that I’m not broken. And neither are you.”

“Are they in Heaven or…?” he asked, struggling with the concept of someone just abandoning him like it was nothing. Death made sense. But just straight up leaving your kid? Hell, even I still couldn’t wrap my head around it.

“No. I wish that were the case, but, no. They just left.”

“So, they didn’t want us…? Why?”

“I dunno, bud. But, I know that I want you. And I know that all your aunties, uncles, and grandma want you. We love you, Seb, and you’re always gonna have us. Promise.”

He nodded, seeming to accept that our love would be enough for him. Then, “Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah, bud?”

“Can Miss Y/L/N come with us to get ice cream?”

“Oh, you think you’re getting ice cream after this stunt? Keep dreamin, pal!”

“But, you promised if I got on A on my test we’d get ice cream. Show him, Miss! Show him my test!”

She laughed and nodded. “Sebastian did get an A on his fractions test. Perfect score in fact.”

“See? Pay up, Daddy-o!” Seb laughed at me.

“Who taught you to call me ‘Daddy-o’, Seb?” I asked, giggling.

“Uncle Lu!”

I laughed again. Of course it was. “Alright. But only 1 scoop.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said skipping off.

“So, would it be too forward if I asked you to ice cream? I mean, the kid… he’s been through a lot today. You don’t wanna break his heart, do ya?”

She laughed. “You rely on him to get all your dates?”

“Only the ones that are worth it. You’re great with him. He really likes having you as a teacher.”

“I really like having him as a student. I hear his dad’s pretty cute, too.”

“Cute dad, huh? Did you hear he’s single?”

“Oh, wow. Did you hear his teacher’s single too, and happens to love ice cream?”

#parent teacher conference #ashton irwin #ashton blurb #dad!ash #anon request #ow my heart #galcal irwin

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