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#ashton 5 seconds of summer
souperbloom · 7 months
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being in love. [A.I.]
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loosely based on lyrics of the song with the same title, by Wet Leg.
roadie! reader x Ashton
in which you realize your feelings for your boss are a lot more detrimental than you thought they were.
this was supposed to be short and i went overboard. oops! enjoy my first post :^)
CONTENT WARNINGS: tension/slight mental angst, mentions of weed smokin', sex in a somewhat public place/exhibitionism, teasing, fingering(f!receiving), dirty talk, degradation, straight up p in v, insinuation of a creampie, porn with plot basically, filth, filth, FILTH (there is something seriously wrong with me).
WORDCOUNT: 7.9k
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You couldn’t fucking stand him.
As much as you wanted to believe that statement, your heart, mind, and soul found every which way to make you believe otherwise.
The days you spent with him dragged on. His over the top personality was like a vacuum cleaner that sucked every ounce of life out of you.
And yet, despite your annoyance with his ability to charm his way towards your demise, the days without him felt like a lifetime.
Since the first time you and Ashton hooked up, all you were able to think about, after the fact, were the things that you really shouldn’t have been.
Almost every night without missing a beat, you’d lie awake in bed; staring off at the ceiling through your post-show exhaustion and reminiscing on the hours you’ve spent with him. Sneaking off between down times and show times. For a quick and casual fuck.
You’d think about his terrible jokes, the little speckles of brown lost between the hues of green in his eyes, or his ability to make you feel like nothing in the best possible way.
You thought about them. You thought about him. All in hopes that one day, you’d think about him so hard that he would just vanish.
It was reverse psychology, you thought, a way to turn that fluttering feeling you get when you’re around him into something a little less existential, and more like you had both originally intended.
Something more casual.
You didn’t like the fact that he had this effect on you. He was about as brutish and irritating as the day is long. When it was just the two of you, you wished more than anything that he would stop being so damn’ sweet and charismatic. The thought of him calling you nicknames and whispering sweet nothings in your ear made you want to curl up and die.
But the vital organ pumping blood through your veins begged to differ.
Whenever he was around, the pounding of your heart against your ribcage was so deafening, you were almost certain that he could hear it.
It felt strange to wake up, to lie down, to close your eyes and think about anything else. You couldn’t even eat without the thought of him stirring up nausea in your stomach. It was almost as if nothing you did could satisfy you. Nothing you did was right.
Because any time without him felt so wrong.
There were moments in which you wondered whether or not he could feel it too. You'd catch him staring at you from across the dressing room, his eyes lingering down your frame for a millisecond longer than normal.
But you're never quite able to figure it out. To figure him out. He was a thousand piece puzzle, and you were stuck looking for the last piece between the couch cushions.
"Yo, earth to Y/N. Did we lose ya' again?"
Your trance is broken by the sound of Calum's voice. You had been so wrapped up in your own pity-party that you had completely forgotten that you were in the middle of a conversation.
"Jeez, are we really that boring?" Luke laughs out, leaning back in his seat, "I thought our conversation about green tea was quite compelling."
"Sorry, sorry..." You try to snap yourself out of whatever God forsaken rut you've dug yourself into, covering up the awkward silence with the clearing of your throat. "...I guess I don't like green tea as much as I thought I did."
"I'm with Y/N on this one. Green tea is fucking disgusting." Michael comes to your rescue with his reply, which practically had you kissing his shoes as a thank you for saving my ass.
"You guys clearly have no taste. It's simple." Luke shrugs, taking a sip of his ice water. "I know if Ashton was here he'd be on our side, right Cal?"
Calum nods his head, "Speaking of Ashton... where the fuck is he? He said he'd meet us..." he pauses his sentence to look at his phone, "...like, an hour ago."
The pit of your stomach lurches at Calum's observation. He was right. Ashton had said he'd be down in the lounge... after he took a quick shower.
But then again, a quick shower was one of those double entendres in you and Ashton's world. Was he waiting for you? Did you misread his subtle glance after he walked right past you when you tried to hand him his water?
Or maybe that wasn't the case. Maybe you’re just overthinking things.
Maybe he just looked at you because he's your boss and you're his roadie; who he just so happens to fuck from time to time.
That's all it was. That's all it ever will be.
"I can go look for him?" You blurt, immediately wanting to smack yourself in the face for sounding so small.
"You don't have to do that, Y/N. He'll find his way down eventually." Michael sighs.
"He's like a ghost, dude... He disappears for hours. Doesn't answer his phone. Then suddenly, POOF, he appears out of thin air. It's fuckin' witchcraft, I think..."
Calum's comment earns a roaring laugh from the rest of the guys, but you weren't at all laughing. You were too busy debating walking out of the door and hoping they wouldn't notice you were gone.
"I don't think I believe in ghosts..."
Another dumbass conversation ensues.
"Are you kidding?! Since when did you stop believing in ghosts?!" Luke seems genuinely offended by Michael's admission.
And yet, you were stuck there. Wanting to rip your hair out as a giant cloud of sex-driven frustration rained down on you.
"Speaking of ghosts," you can't help but interject, speaking a little louder than you had originally anticipated, "I think I’m gonna go look for Ashton. He's probably off haunting the bar down in the lobby…"
"Well, if you insist," Calum says, saluting you, "good luck, ghost hunter."
As you exited the lounge with no issue and let the boys be boys, you thought to yourself.
Hm, getting out of there was a lot easier than I had anticipated.
But what you hadn't anticipated was the sheer speed in which your feet would pound against the floorboards once you started off down the hall. For you knew just where to look for him.
You were on a mission. A mission to find Ashton, in hopes that he could be the one to free you of the confines of your frustration. In the best way you both knew how.
Once you made it to the elevator corridor, you had to take a moment. To collect yourself and think... what the fuck are you doing?
Did you really think that fucking Ashton would get your mind off of the romantic connection you so desperately craved in him? Did you really think this was the best idea you've ever had?
The answer was no. You knew that this whole ordeal would dig your metaphorical grave ten feet deeper. But you honestly didn't have the energy to care. This witch hunt has turned into merely a way to get off.
Just like God intended.
You step into the elevator, already knowing your way around this hotel like the back of your hand after only being stationed here for a few days.
As the elevator made its' trip up to the rooftop, your senses were heightened. The elevator dings sounded like sirens and the climbing of floors was pushing down on you, making you feel as though the oxygen in your lungs was being forced out by the altitude change.
Your symptoms couldn't be explained by anything other than Ashton, as much as you hated to admit it. It was typical for you to feel this way whenever you answered to his beckoning call.
Just a quick and casual fuck. Quick. And casual.
You tried to focus your mind on those two words. Forcing your conscious out of habit and tricking yourself into believing them.
But as soon as the elevator door slid open, those two words were nothing but dust in the wind.
All you could see in the darkness of the twinkling summer sky was the curve of Ashton's shoulder, highlighted slightly by the patio lights. He was looking out past the glass that surrounded the rooftop, off into the New York City skyline.
You froze up upon seeing him, barely managing to step across the elevator threshold without vomiting all over your shoes.
There were remnants of smoke lingering in the air around him, a familiar, earthy smell touching your nose upon piecing your two senses together.
Before you could tell your brain to step forward, Ashton's head turns to face you. You finally get a look at him, a good look at him.
And fuck, did he look divine.
His hair was partially wet, rogue curls hanging lowly on his forehead with that post show gleam still laced throughout his features. He scratches at the stubble on his chin, a droplet of water dripping down his temple upon doing so.
"Y/N," he leered, the blank expression that once painted his face now lifting into a smirk.
"Ashton," you reply; although small talk is the last thing you wished to be having at the moment.
"Where've ya' been?" he asks, leaning his arm to rest against the back of the couch he was sprawled out on.
"The lounge... The guys are down there waiting for you, y'know." You try to divert the attention away from yourself. But you knew for a fact that you were the only thing on his mind right now.
His eyes scan your body. Up, and down. Up, and down. Like he was stuck in some sort of trance. "Well, that's funny, isn't it. Because I've been up here… waiting for you."
You fuckin’ knew it.
"And how was I supposed to know that?"
He pauses, thumbing at his chin, "I'm not sure, actually... 'Thought you would've had me figured out by now."
It was taking everything inside of you not to run over there and smack the shit out of him for being such a snarky asshole. But you were well aware of the dynamic between you two; this type of banter wasn't out of the ordinary.
"You just gonna stand there and stare at me, honey?" Ashton remarks, calling you by that nickname that makes your stomach hurt and revealing his hand from behind the couch; a lit and half-smoked joint plucked between his fingertips.
Without another word, you walk over to him, slowly starting to display more and more of his body laid out on the couch.
He had on a loosely fitting Hawaiian shirt, one of the ones with only half the normal amount of buttons, and a pair of grey sweatpants. To contradict the tone of the outfit and make it totally clear to you where his head was at when he put them on.
The Hawaiian shirt hung off of his shoulders, revealing his collarbone decked out in beaded necklaces and braided silver chains.
You wanted more than anything to take those chains between your teeth as he hovered over you, pinning you down and fucking into you like you were the last two people on Earth.
Sidetracked, Y/N. You’re getting sidetracked.
When it came to hooking up, you and Ashton had discovered a natural rhythm. A routine, of sorts, consisting of unspoken demands and a whole lot of Ashton holding the reins.
No need to give orders, or ask for more. You both knew what you wanted and exactly how to get it.
But that routine so deeply instilled in you had seemed to vanish as soon as you stepped in front of him.
Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth as you teetered from side to side, just admiring Ashton in all of his residually high glory. You wanted to say something, but couldn't bring yourself to say anything else but these two words:
"Fuck me."
His eyes widen in shock. Amusement, even. The joint between his fingers dwindling down to the roach and leaving ashes in the wind as he lets out a quiet chuckle.
"Y/N, I—"
You cut him off abruptly, "It wasn't a fucking question, Ash."
You didn't mean to come off so bossily, but at this point you were willing to do anything to forget about the weight that came with having alleged feelings for him.
Even if that something was letting him fuck you until you cried.
"Right here?"
"Yes." Your heart was racing.
"Right now?"
"Yes." Reminiscent of a heart attack.
And then he does something that makes you even more frustrated than you were before this entire ordeal. He looks at you, without a care, and just… shrugs.
“Works for me.”
You hated that. Oh, you fucking hated that. That cocky, ‘devil-may-care’ attitude. It gets you so worked up that you consider winding up your fist and cracking him the jaw.
But you don’t end up going through with your desires to hurt him at all. Instead, you’re pouncing at him. Scrambling to straddle his comfortably spread legs as he pulls you by your cheeks into a heated kiss.
You sigh upon feeling your lips on his, Ashton just as well. The both of you tend to melt into each other’s palms when your lips connect; which is another reason as to why your head was all fucked up and sideways in the first place.
As the kiss between you grows more primal, you find yourself taking out your frustrations and feelings on Ashton’s bottom lip. You sink your teeth into the soft flesh, tugging it down gently towards his chin.
His hands fumble for the button of your jeans, grunting lowly as he struggles to get it undone.
"Fuck— Get these… Get these damn things off…" The remark flies past his lips, and yours, in a disgruntled huff. You do as you’re told, momentarily disconnecting from him.
When you rise to your feet, being held up by weak, unreliable knees, he looks up. That face of amusement was still painted on, mocking you.
Was he still thinking about your desperate demand? Or was he just enjoying the view?
"Someone’s a little greedy tonight," he says, blowing out a breath and running a hand through his fresh, now sweaty, curls.
"I don’t wanna hear shit from you. You’re the greediest motherfucker alive." You tease back at him, undoing your zipper and shimmying out of your jeans.
"I’ll take that as a compliment coming from you, Miss ‘I never know what I want and I need Ashton to tell me’.”
"I knew what I wanted tonight, didn’t I?" His threats were empty, but you were loving it. You loved to tease, loved to be teased.
"That is true,” he sighs, looking down at the roach he had flicked onto the floor. He stomps it out with his steel-toed boot. "But that’s, what, one time—? Out of the however-the-fuck many times we’ve slept together?"
“You’re making this a lot more complicated than it has to be, Ash. Fuckin’ live a little.”
You were now in your t-shirt and underwear out on this rooftop, telling Ashton to live a little while you’re practically caving in on yourself in embarrassment.
"But, honey... why out here? Why right now?" he asks. Genuinely. Almost sweetly.
You didn't want to admit the real reason as to why you were acting so curtly. The embarrassment of sounding desperate and needy was doing numbers on you already.
"Does there always need to be a reason why?"
You cross your arms over your chest, feeling overexposed. But Ashton’s eyes scan down your frame as if there’s no shame left in the world.
"My apologies for seeming hesitant... You know full and well— I’d do you any time, any place.”
"Is that so?” you quip.
"I don’t think you realize how often I think about having you bouncing on my dick while I’m out on stage performing, so— yes, that is so.”
The way he admits this all so casually makes your stomach turn. You knew he was dirty, but not this dirty. You just assumed he knew that there was a time and place for all of these thoughts.
And the fact that he was thinking about you at all wasn’t making this any easier.
"Well?” Ashton snaps your mind out of the gutter. Ironic.
"Well what?"
"You just gonna stand there in your underwear?"
Oh. Right.
After a moment of blundering awkwardness, you walk towards him timidly, feeling as if your soul was freeing itself from your body as he extends his arms out to hold you.
You make your way back into his lap, digging your knees into the cushions comfortably beside his thighs and letting him run his blistered palm down the side of your face.
His bloodshot eyes find yours like a magnet. Your breath is trapped somewhere in your larynx as his hand continues its journey to your neck.
You felt like you were about to burst at the seams, the tension and friction building between you was like a bottle rocket, ready to set off into the sky.
And with that, exactly on cue, your heart is racing, as he cups your throat between ring finger and thumb. Your rattling ribcage was telling him all he needed to know when the pads of his fingers began to squeeze gently.
You close your eyes, "Ashton..."
"Y/N..." He repeats matching your hushed tone, swallowing the lump in his throat as your noses brush together.
His nose grazes yours with fragility and tenderness, his touch as light as a feather. But you couldn’t stand the space between you two. The clear disconnect between your lips and his.
He seemed to be lingering longer than usual. You found yourself wondering what the hell was going on in his head. Since you had clearly told him what you wanted a long time ago.
"Why aren’t you kissing me?" you ask quietly, still so close to his face that his features had gone blurry.
"Could ask you the same question, honey." His breath fans across your face and suddenly you’re reverting back to your old ways. Back before you were so— demanding.
“Well, not to be clichè, but— you’re meant to take the lead here, Ash.” You say it as if it were obvious, but he disagrees.
"Clearly not tonight."
Now, you were stuck.
You came up here to find him for one reason, and one reason only. To fuck him… to get your mind off of him.
But that all sounded a bit complicated, though. Didn’t it?
"Y/N…" He says your name again, reminiscent of pure honey dripping off of his tongue.
"Hm...?"
God, what is with him and saying your name?
"Is there something on your mind?"
You cock your head, "Would you still fuck me if I said no?..."
Ashton’s eyebrows shoot to his forehead.
"…Even if I wasn’t telling the whole truth?"
He backs away from you, giving you a better look at the confused expression laminated across his face.
"You’re a real card, aren’t’cha?”
His confusion melts into a smile, as he removes his hand from your neck to match his other at your waist. "You know I’d never force anything out of you, Y/N. But— just so you know… Honesty is the first chapter in the book of wisdom."
You can’t help but roll your eyes at his terrible cliché, finding your hand lost in his unruly curls. "You’re such an old man."
He winces, "God— please… Don’t put that picture in my head… It’s killing the mood."
In the brief moment of silence and sweetness shared between you and him, it was taking everything inside of you not to scream at the top of your lungs.
You wanted to scream; Ashton Irwin, I am in love with you. Ashton Irwin, I am in love with you… over and over again.
Until it didn’t mean a thing.
"Not gonna lie to you, honey— M’gettin’ impatient." Ashton lets out a deep sigh, his eyes snapping you out of a downward spiral.
"Right, right. I’m sorry—"
You cut yourself short by reconnecting your lips to his. You missed this feeling, even after only a few minutes; something inside of you dies every time you pull away from him.
He pulls your waist into his torso, pushing you down and grinding you against the already hardened length in his sweatpants. The wildly thin material left no room for the imagination, as it was now creating friction against your wet panties.
"Fuckin’ hell, Y/N—" Ashton mumbles through your lips, and you just sigh. You sigh into him like putty in his hands, creating a rhythm of swiveling hips and only furthering the fireworks that were occurring in the pit of your stomach.
He removes one hand from your waist, blindly finding the waistband of your underwear like it was some mindless, natural instinct.
Muscle memory is a damned thing.
Detaching your lips from his, you whine. "Ash, please—"
You wince internally at how needy you sounded. How desperate and completely disheveled you’ve become at his touch. Yet the blistered pads of his fingers continued to trace slow, taunting patterns along your bikini line.
But as your breathing becomes more erratic, Ashton reads you like the book he already knows so well. Front page to back, cover to fucking cover.
He dips two fingers down into your underwear, attaching them to your sensitive bud.
You writhe above him, but he keeps you grounded, anchoring his hand on your waist with his forehead pressed against yours.
His eyes flutter closed in delight. "So fuckin’ wet for me, yeah? This’ all for me, honey?"
It felt like he was mocking you. Of course it was for him. It was all for him. Anything you ever did was for him. Any feelings you’ve felt, thoughts you’ve had, stories you’ve told… they were all for him.
You can only bring yourself to nod.
"Good, good…" he sighs, breathlessly, "Gonna’ take me so easy tonight…"
He continues his rhythm. One finger circling your clit while the other ghosts over your entrance. Heavenly sighs fall from your lips. You want to close your eyes, you want to enjoy the sensation as it were.
But you just couldn’t look away.
"Look at me, Ash."
A bout of confidence rolls through your veins and you aren’t quite sure where it was coming from, but you had no complaints. Your foreheads being pressed together was making you antsy.
His features were still blurry through glossy eyes, which you didn’t really like. You wanted to get a good look at him before you tried to dismiss these feelings, and pretend as though he meant nothing.
Nothing at all.
He does as he’s told, and backs away from you. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he took in every single feature, etching, God knows what else, on your face.
"You know how fuckin’ beautiful you are, Y/N?— Always so good for me… like an angel… heaven sent."
Those words unleash something inside of you. Tears begin to brim at your lower lash line and you’re suddenly reminded of the feeling that you are so desperately trying to forget.
Existing in this world with him felt so strange. You truly believe he was sent down to Earth to smite you and haunt your memories.
And hearing him call you an angel didn’t help a damn thing.
The words you utter next come out just above a whisper. Your throat feels gravelly, and dry. Like you hadn’t drank water in years.
"Fuck me, Ashton. Just— fuck me, please—"
"M’gettin' there," he grunts, ignoring your plea and still chipping away at your decorum with his bare hands.
You let out a loud, high pitched mewl as you feel his two fingers now inside of you. He always took his time when it came to pleasuring you, always making sure that you’d be the one getting off first, even if he didn’t get the chance to.
Now, you’ve found yourself thinking in depth about just how thoughtful he is.
Jesus fuck, give it a rest.
"You know how much I adore those sweet sounds you make. But you’ve gotta be a tad bit quieter for me, alright angel?"
Oh god, you thought, this nickname better not become a recurring thing. You weren’t even sure you’d be able to fathom the thought of him thinking of you so highly.
"Okay, oh— fuck, Ashton"
Your brain was moving at a mile a minute. While trying to be quiet and simultaneously losing your head in the process, a smirk slides across Ashton’s face. He picks up on the signs, he notices your movements on his lap becoming more and more frenzied.
You knew you were close. He knew you were close.
Oh, of course he fucking did. He knew you like the back of his hand.
"Ash, I’m close… Please—" You begged empty pleas, finding stability with your hands clasped around his neck as you jerk forward with that fluttering feeling.
"I feel it comin’. Bein’ so— so good… C’mon— give it to me."
His two fingers thrust in and out of you while a third circled your clit. You wanted to scream, but he told you to be quiet. You wanted to kiss him, but you couldn’t pull yourself away from the purely concentrated, almost sadistic look in his eyes.
"That’s my girl… that’s my fuckin’ girl…"
The sounds of your wetness boom through your head along with the sounds of his praise, slowly meshing into a garish ringing in your ear. The butterflies once encased in the pit of your stomach had set free, fluttering along your body as Ashton’s rhythmic fingers come to a slowdown.
"Fuck!" You cry out, as your body collapses into his chest.
You could feel his ribcage shake with laughter, as he takes that free hand of his to rub your back. Your head is tossed over his shoulder as you manage your breathing.
"…Is that all you’ve got in you tonight?"
You could barely hear his voice over the ringing in your ears, as you heave like this was the last breath you’d ever take. He then removes his fingers from inside of you, causing you to jolt, still sensitive from the electricity coursing through your veins just moments before.
"N—no…" You stutter into his neck.
"You sure?"
"Uh-huh."
Your head was still spinning while you tried to cool down. The temperature of your bodies entwined was like a hot stovetop, setting your skin ablaze. But you couldn’t find it in you to lift yourself up from the crook of his shoulder.
You liked it there. It was comfortable. It felt natural.
After a few moments of silence and messy breathing, you lift your head up.
"All good now?" He asks, running a hand down your waist.
"I think so... Almost knocked me out with that one Ash, not gonna lie."
All he does is laugh, before hovering the two fingers he had used to unravel you with in front of the both of your faces.
"See this?" He examines his fingers, still glistening with your secretions, "Is this what I do to you?"
Your jaw falls open slightly, "Wh—"
He takes a moment to think to himself, pushing his lips to the side while you just watched in complete awe.
"…I wonder if my honey girl tastes as sweet as she looks?"
You don’t even have a moment to blink before he takes those two fingers into his mouth. He sucks whatever’s left of you off of his digits, before pulling them out with a pop.
"Mmm," he hums, "Just as I’d imagined… Sweet as fuckin’ honey"
Something inside of you snaps, and you’re suddenly reattaching your lips to his. He moans into you, taken aback by your actions with his hands fumbling to grab your ass and grind you down into him.
"I need— I need you…" You mumble into his lips, not long before he juts his tongue out to run it across your bottom lip.
His stubble scratches against your palms as you grab ahold of his face, trying to ease him into you as if it were even humanly possible to get him any closer.
"Need me t’fuck you, honey? You— you want me that badly?" He asks quickly, sounding out of breath already from the sheer friction of your hips grinding against him. You nod rapidly, and he dips down to kiss your neck to let you know that he heard you loud and clear.
“Please, Ash…" You couldn’t help it, your mind was still reeling, "I need to feel you—"
Your words come out airy and forced, like somebody was squeezing them out of you. But you couldn’t stop yourself no matter how hard you bit down your tongue.
"...Fuck me like I’m worthless… Fuck me like I mean nothing to you at all…"
His head pops up from the crook of your neck, a sardonic look in his eye.
"Say that again for me?"
"…Fuck me like I mean nothing to you, Ashton. Fuck me like I mean nothing at all.”
You couldn’t describe the way his face changed. The way it morphed into something that you weren’t at all used to. It wasn’t sarcastic, no. It wasn’t the usual cheeky grin, either.
You were afraid that you had just dug your grave even deeper this time.
"Stand up." He demands shortly, which brings goosebumps across your arms.
"Stand up?" You repeat, like a goddamn lovesick puppy.
"Stand the fuck up, Y/N."
You do as you’re told, wearily, lifting yourself off of him and rising to your feet. You watch in anticipation, crossing your arms over your chest as he remains sitting.
The dynamic between you two had shifted drastically. It was clear that Ashton was still in charge, only this time, it felt absolutely terrifying.
You wished you hadn’t said anything at all. You wished he had just let you ride him, as you were planning to do. But your emotions gotten the best of you. The thought of caring for him so deeply had actually brought you to spiral out of control.
What you had been longing for, all this time, was about to come true.
With that, you planned to do everything you were told. Each and every single order barked at you was to be followed. You wanted to see what it felt like. What it felt like to feel nothing for a change.
"Walk to the balcony." Another demand. You hesitate, still dealing with a subconscious battle of self. Your heart and brain were going at it like two bulls in the ring.
"Are you— are you gonna come with me?" You find your gaze glued to the patio, feeling as small and as meek as ever.
"Meh, I’ll make my way over eventually."
Fair enough.
You walk over towards the balcony; left only in your thin, grey CREW v-neck and a pair of frilly, sage green underwear.
The fact that Ashton didn’t comment on the color of them made you feel a bit discouraged. Green was his favorite color, after all. You at least thought he’d take a moment to appreciate it.
God knows that moment won’t be happening now.
You start to near the glass railing that surrounded the rooftop. But despite your back being turned, you could completely feel his eyes searing bullet holes into your flesh. A chill ran down your spine, uncomfortable with the feeling of being watched, yet enjoying the fact that it was by him.
"Keep walking."
You were getting so close to the glass that it actually started to feel cold, despite the lingering August air.
You also weren’t sure where his head was at. Him having you walk towards the balcony that was completely out-turned and visible to the street below almost felt like he was trying to humiliate you.
But that feeling was quickly washed away when you felt his footsteps behind you.
"You have any idea what you’ve just gotten yourself into, honey?” He inches close to you, close enough to feel the warmth of his body radiating onto your back yet still too far away to touch you.
You swallow the lump forming in your throat. “No… I-I don’t think so…"
You were telling the truth. No, Ashton, you had not a clue what you had just gotten yourself into. The absolute wormhole that you had just unlocked for yourself.
A new way to feel about things. A new way to feel about him.
Another wave of chills runs down your back as he takes the back of his hand and runs it down your shoulder. You wince, wanting nothing more than to turn around and kiss him.
"I didn’t think you had it in you."
"What?" Your voice comes out high pitched. Almost… nervous.
"To order me around like that. To finally buck up n’ tell me how to have my way with ya’… It’s honestly— kind of impressive."
His hand strokes down your arm once again, but this time, you just sigh.
He thinks this is just roleplay.
Little did he know that all of this nagging and bossiness had come from the truest, most integral parts of your soul and your longing to forget about the way your heart beats for him.
"You think so?" You try to gain back your sparkle with a witty reply, "How else can I impress you, Ash?"
All of these words exchanged between you two were said facing away from one another. You hadn’t the energy to care, nor the energy to make this anymore meaningful than it was, or was not, supposed to be.
You’ve finally decided to let go.
"Well, you can start by bending over." He snaps back. He’s always been so quick with his words.
To follow your mantra from before, you do as you’re told, bending over slightly and exposing your bare asscheeks to him. You lean your arms over the glass railing, your wrists going limp in doing so.
"’Like the view?" You ask, sparing him a glance over your shoulder in hopes to get a little more of a rise out of him.
"The view won’t mean much while I’m using you, honey."
Your face grows pale, a rush of static that felt like pinpricks crawls across your body. Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Ashton.
The excitement and rush of it all is now, finally, catching up to you. You were about to have meaningless sex with the person that means the most. In a way, it did feel like roleplay.
Except your role was pretending like you didn’t give a fuck about him.
"Gimme’ your wrist." You hear Ashton bark another command from behind you, along with the shuffling of fabric. Before you could even offer your wrist to him, he’s taking it upon himself to reach up and grab it.
He swiftly pins one of your arms behind your back, making you gasp and teeter on your feet.
"Ashton…" You try to say, but are immediately silenced by his other hand hooking a finger to the waistline of your panties.
"Don’t say another word, Y/N. You’re in no position to talk right now."
Your breath gets caught in your throat, now with your one free hand anchored to the railing. It was all a waiting game, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t extremely turned on by him and his newfound unpredictability.
"I have a job for you." His voice rings in your ears, as he bends down above you to be parallel to your curved back. "…Think you could follow some orders f’me? Just for tonight?"
Just for tonight, you thought. Just for tonight.
You nod at his question. It was the only thing you were capable of doing, anyway.
"You’re gonna take my cock… But I don’t wanna hear a peep from that dirty mouth of yours. One fuckin’ sound and I swear… I’ll send you back downstairs with mascara running down your face and nothin’ to fuckin’ show for it."
You nod again. You were a nodding, blubbering mess.
"Think you could do that for me? Think you could be good enough for me to let you cum again?"
You nod, once again.
"And you told me what you wanted, right? Told me loud and clear how you wanted me to treat you? Out here— where there’s a small chance somebody could walk in on this?"
His pelvis presses against you as he taunts, and you’re left feeling even weaker in the knees.
This time, it wasn’t a nod. It was more of a sob.
"Good, good to know…" He softens his tone, lips now centimeters away from your ear.
"…Now bend the fuck over n’ let me use you like you’re nothing."
In a flash of vibrant colors swirling around the backs of your eyelids, you feel Ashton push your panties aside. He runs two fingers up your damp slit, bringing your face to a pinch.
You were still so sensitive after letting him have his way with you the first time. But you couldn’t fathom going another minute without the feeling of him buried inside of you.
"Please—" You whisper, but only to yourself.
You didn’t want to know what he’d do if he’d heard it.
His next movements were methodical, and slow, like he was a puppeteer playing with your strings. His hands dance along the sides of your hips, moving up to rub the small of your back.
He puffs out a breath, seemingly taking you in from behind.
"You're a fuckin' vision, Y/N... It's too bad you don't want me to treat you that way."
His ceaseless taunting was making your vision go shaky.
But you needed to keep reminding yourself... you fucking asked for it.
"Gonna let me use you, honey? Like my own personal doll... that I can toss around n' rough up... Mmm, 'bet you've been thinking about this for a while, haven't you?"
"Ashton..." You can help but let his name tumble from your lips. But in a flash, his hand is cracking down on your bare asscheek, creating a loud clap that you swore could be heard for miles. You let out a yelp, but quickly clamp your lips shut.
Your skin burns from the contact, your mouth going bone dry.
"What did I fucking say about that mouth of yours, Y/N? Not a fucking peep."
As he guides himself up and down your slit, collecting your juices on his leaky tip, you choke back the tears in your eyes. You still wanted nothing more than to turn around and kiss him, which was just a damned thing.
"So wet f'me... God, I'm in heaven."
It was almost as if each string of sentences that came out of his mouth were traveling in through one ear and right out of the other. I suppose this was your karma for being so demanding.
But this is what you wanted, wasn't it? Even though Ashton's means of 'fucking you like you're worthless' still came with bouts of praise, he couldn't help it. He was only human. Testing the waters for the both of you.
Roleplay.
He traces one last drag along your folds, pushing your panties aside with his tip before suddenly slamming himself into you. You gasp at the sudden feeling of him, your body lurching forward towards the railing as his grip on your wrist grows tighter.
"Jesus fuck—." He groans through bated breath before starting his rhythm of pounding into you.
It starts off slowly. The feeling of him filling you up as your walls clench around him must've felt like heaven to the both of you, for he let out a long, dreamy sigh. The hand that was once toying with the hemline of your lacy panties was now planted on the small of your back, using you as leverage as he slammed his cock deeper with each stroke.
Ashton hums, the sounds of slapping skin now engulfing the air around you. "Fuckin' love this pussy... Like it was fuckin' made for me..."
The air in your lungs started to dissipate, practically leaving you begging for mercy at his expense. Your body jolted with each of his deep thrusts, still trying to stay quiet and do exactly as he had demanded of you.
His grip on your wrist had begun to feel raw, surely to leave you with some kind of marking, reinstating the absolute chokehold he has on you.
"Ash..." You whisper again, as he's grunting and whining from behind you.
"Whose fuckin' pussy is this? Whose fuckin' pussy is this?" He asks the question and you whimper, unable to gather any syllable of a sentence on your tongue.
Suddenly, he releases your wrist, picking up his rhythm of fucking into you. Your arm drops to your side like a ragdoll, as you scramble to balance it next to your other on the railing.
The hand of his that once held your wrist captive had traveled down to meet his other, gripping your waist and digging his blistered fingertips into your flesh.
"Fuck... fuckin' shit, Y/N... Takin' my cock so well..."
Using his hands anchored to your waist, he starts to pull you into him, slamming your hips into his pelvic bone and hitting that sweet spot with every. Single. Stroke.
"Fuck, you’re heavenly…. My sweet, sweet girl…"
At this point in time, you could care less about the semantics of this all.
Although the point of this was for Ashton to have his way with you without a single feeling attached, it seemed as though he couldn’t really help it. He was a blubbering mess of compliments and praise, a true gentleman through and through.
But that was something to think about while you lay awake in bed tonight.
For now, you just decided to live in the moment.
Ashton’s rhythm had grown sloppy. He was awfully close to making you finish for a second time, with each buck of his hips— meanwhile it was taking every last bit of your consciousness to keep yourself quiet. The pit of your stomach squeezed with each primal sound that fell from his plush lips.
"M’gonna cum soon, honey… ‘Gonna fill you up, yeah? Would you like that? Want me t’fill you up?"
Unsure of whether or not to verbalize your consent, you nod. Like a bobble-head on a broken spring.
"That’s my girl. That’s— my fuckin’ girl.”
Despite Ashton’s imminent orgasm, you could only think about two words.
My girl. My girl. My girl
They were flashing around your mind like the billboards in the Manhattan streets below. Each thought of those two words produced vibrant colors behind your eyelids, stars now fogging up the blackness as he slams into you a few more times.
"Gonna' cum, honey... G-Gonna' fill you up, m'kay? Fuck..."
With one final pound into you, the pulsing throbbing of his cock had come to a slowdown. You both let out a collective gasp, as the heat ignited between your bodies had meshed into a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest.
Ashton collapses onto your back, the front half of his body slicked with sweat and pressing into you. Your breathing had begun to sync up collectively, only for him to pull out of you and make your entire body jolt.
"Fuck, Ashton."
You were finally able to speak again. You had gotten your words back, as well as your confidence. And the feeling of his presence behind you was all you needed to get you there.
He huffs, finally lifting himself off of you. But you lag behind, taking a moment to collect your breathing as he pulls his sweatpants up.
"Jesus Christ, honey. You're a goddamn dream." He chuckles, stepping back and allowing you the space to turn around.
And that you did. Finally faced with that dream he was on about.
Sweaty, messy curls glued and rearranged to his forehead. Glossy, hooded, fucked-out eyes. The fabric of his Hawaiian shirt soaked with the mixing of your sweat and his.
He looked obscene. He looked ethereal. You wanted to tell him how absolutely picturesque he was in that moment. You wanted to give him every gorgeous compliment you could think of.
But you didn't. You couldn't.
So you said this instead.
"...It'd be a dream if you could grab my jeans."
"Don’t be impolite, Y/N. What's the magic word?" He teases, motioning towards your jeans that had been discarded in a pile on the patio.
"Oh, so now you want me to talk, tough guy? After you just fucked the goddamn life out of me?"
He shrugs, "I wouldn't say I fucked the life out of you... If that was the case, you wouldn't be standing upright."
You huff, frustrated, but loving every second of it.
"Just– grab me my damn jeans, Irwin."
He does as he's told, begrudgingly walking the short few feet to grab your jeans as you stand, cross-legged, bare-assed, with your back against the glass.
"Your majesty," he bows, holding your pants out on his arm like a knight with your crown.
"Thank you."
As you put on your jeans, Ashton watches you. With those whiskey, honeypot eyes. Scanning down every inch of you as you put one leg in, then the other.
"If it were up to me, I'd send you back down pants-less."
"Yeah, right." You scoff, reverting back to your old ways of a thumping heart and a pain in your chest, "You know how much trouble I'd be in?"
"Trouble by who? I'm your boss, aren't I?"
You puff, pulling up the zipper of your jeans, "You don't act like it."
"Want me to start then?" He quips.
"...No. Absolutely not."
Ashton tosses you a smile, not long before he's holding out his arms.
"That's what I thought, honey," he motions for you with his hands, "Now c'mere."
Without even thinking, almost as if it were rehearsed, you spin around, falling backwards into his arms. He wraps himself around you, broad biceps squeezing your shoulders like a butterfly in its' cocoon.
The Manhattan night sky was twinkling with lights and stars. You stare out into it, and he does too.
As you stand cradled in his arms with the lingering of pitiful, degrading sex still in the air, you sat in your thoughts for a moment.
What happened tonight couldn’t have been a mistake. You had been speaking it into existence for so long, that it finally became a reality. From the way he so passionately kissed you, to the way he so effortlessly dropped everything to fuck you like you were worthless. Just like you had asked. Just liked you had intended.
But you knew, despite everything that happened tonight, that not a single thing would change. 
Your heart would still flutter out of your ribcage whenever he walked by. You’d still answer his calls late at night, or spare him passing glances in the concert halls.
You’d still come to meet him, no matter when or where. All with that same, God awful weight on your chest.
It all made you feel terrible. Everything about him made you feel terrible.
But you were willing to get used to that feeling.
To be completely honest with yourself…
You kind of liked it. 
It felt like being in love
⋆⭒˚。⋆
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bartxnhood · 5 months
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you don’t go to parties | a.f.i
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ashton irwin x fem!reader
summary: ashton wonders why he keeps searching for you at parties. because after all, you don’t go to parties anymore.
warnings: drinking, swearing, just the party scene
w/c: 2.4k
requests open
not proofread
Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.
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“hey, it’s y/n. sorry, i missed your call. leave a message after the beep. bye!”
“hey, uh, it’s me, just been thinking about everything tonight and i don’t know… i just miss you so much. call me when you can. bye.”
ashton removes the phone from his ear and ends the call, followed by a long, drawn-out sigh as he stares at your contact photo.
you were standing on the harbour bridge with him, kissing his cheek. it was taken on his first tour, when the band was opening for one direction, and he had just asked you to be his girlfriend, to which you of course said yes. he was your best friend and the person you had fallen in love with years before.
you've been by his side since the beginning of the band till today. you helped him throughout his most difficult times, and he did the same for you. at one point you considered him your soulmate and imagined spending the rest of your life by his side.
that was, until the parties.
it wasn't horrible at first. you'd join him at a few parties here and there. it was fun at first but then things got out of hand. ashton would party practically every night, and the parties eventually moved to his house, where you also lived. and it was well into the morning before the nights ended. so, you'd just hide out in your bedroom or at a friend's house.
it was exhausting. you could never get anything done because your house was always filled with strangers. and you couldn’t talk to ashton about it because he was always hungover and told you he’d talk to you later.
eventually, it got to the point where you just couldn’t take it anymore. so, you left him.
ashton was a disaster. every night, he'd be out partying or at a bar, hoping to drown out the haunting thoughts of you.
his partying addiction had gotten worse since you left. he couldn't even remember what he done the previous week since he had been partying so hard that it was killing him.
sometimes he’d call you when he was blackout drunk, professing undying love for you and how he regrets everything. other nights, when he isn’t so drunk, he’d still call you and apologize for the drunk calls.
he was spiraling down a deep dark alley, and if he didn’t fix himself now, he’d never see the light again.
ashton didn’t know why he continued to party and drink so much. but, he continued without thinking about the consequences. even if he knew how bad he was while under the influence.
some nights were worse than others.
one night it got very out of hand.
it was nearing five in the morning and ashton had one too many like he usually does but tonight was different. he was angry. angry at himself for letting you slip from his hands, angry he treated you like gum on the bottom of his shoe when instead of the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
ashton sat on his sofa staring at the wall with a red solo cup in hand, occasionally looking towards the door hoping you’d walk through and come back to him. but of course, you never did, and you wouldn’t because you don’t go to parties anymore.
luke sat with his head hung, rubbing his temples. “ashton, you’ve had too much. cmon man. just go to bed and we will clean up. it’s almost five a.m”
but ashton doesn’t say anything, he just sits there and down the rest of the liquid in his cup before tossing it to the floor
“yeah, no wonder y/n left you.” ashton hears michael say under his breath which was just enough to send ashton over the edge.
now it was getting out of hand, ashton was screaming his lungs out at michael while he just stood there with his hands up, signaling he didn’t want to fight ashton.
finally luke called the one person he knew who would help. you.
“hey, y/n, i’m sorry it’s so late…well early but ash is drunk, very drunk. can you come get him? he’s causing a scene.”
"what? oh, christ. yeah, I'll be there in ten," you said as you jumped out of bed, grabbed the nearest sweater and sweatpants, and ran out of your apartment.
your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. the drive was a blur, trying to get there as quickly as possible in order to avoid another fight.
you knew most people would never do this for their ex, but you still loved him. you were still madly in love with him at the time. you listen to every message he's ever left on your phone.
your inbox was overflowing with them.
you heard every sincere confession, every drunken apology, and every sober apology.
of course, you still had feelings for him.
you never stopped.
“thank you for coming.” luke swung the door open letting you slip inside, then walked through the trashed house. “he’s in the living room” you looked through the kitchen archway to see where luke was pointing, and then you saw him.
you pushed the door open and walked across smashed cans and cups to his side. "ashton?" your voice was soft, as if you were unsure how he would react to your sudden appearance. maybe he'll lash out at you, or he'll remain mute and go away.
he raised his head, his gaze meeting yours. ashton comes to a halt from whatever nonsense he was doing, which was probably another drunken rage. was this really happening? he asks, as he stares at you in bewilderment. are you standing directly in front of him? was he dreaming?
"y/n?" he calls your name, and you question, "ash, what's going on?" and his eyes glaze over merely hearing your concern.he only blinks in response, trying to figure out the situation.
he can't believe you're at his party after swearing them off, and it's for HIM. not anywhere else but his house. he says "y/n" a few times before wrapping his arms around your stomach and tightening his grip. he couldn't let you go away again.
you just let it happen and hug him back as he sits on the sofa, saying, "hey, I'm here, it'll be okay" and attempting to calm him down. despite your best attempts, he pulls away, taking everything in.
you noticed luke about to say something, so you put your hand out to stop him, silently shaking your head.
you knew ashton was in pain, so you took him upstairs. "hey why don't we get you upstairs and into bed?" you gently held his arm, which calmed him down. he allowed you to take him upstairs and away from the party. you pull over to chat to one of the boys on the way, saying that you're going to take him to bed.
"I appreciate you calling. I'll get him settled and then return to assist you with the cleanup." you say to luke before leaving.
you help him upstairs, doing your best to keep him upright. as you led ashton to the bed, he was babbling incomprehensible words. and after completing your normal cleaning and care for him, you took a step back. anxiety and confusion consume your body. thank goodness, his luke called you.
You've read the articles about his constant parties and the drunken scenes he created. he was a mess. but it was how he was dealing with the break up. you, on the other hand, have stayed home every night, watching sad movies, weeping yourself to sleep most nights, losing your appetite, and creating excuses not to see sierra or crystal. Isolation was your only option for coping.
you begin to rub the bridge of your nose as you stand by the side of the bed, looking down at ashton, who was in and out of consciousness. your heart was beating, and you were at a loss for what to do. when ashton opens his eyes and sees this, he becomes upset once more. he’s sorry you had to go to another party for him, and he rubs his eyes before saying, "you shouldn't have come." "y’hate parties." "i had to," you say, dropping your hands. "i was worried." he could see it in your eyes that you were sincere. "you're scaring me, ash" you took a pause to attempt to calm yourself as tears began to pool in your eyes.
you try to get him to bed without confessing anything or saying anything you don't genuinely mean, knowing he's incredibly inebriated and emotional. "scaring you?" he took a deep breath as he watched you toss his shoes to the floor. "yes. you’re killing yourself. i’m not going to sit by and let you do that." maybe you were getting a little emotional right now, so you looked away to gather your thoughts and finish getting him ready for bed. if he chooses to sleep.
you left the room once he was settled for a bottle of water. he probably won't know you're gone. only luke and calum remained, clearing up the garbage from the party. they all glanced up at you, waiting for news, but you just shook your head and said nothing.
you returned, half-opening the bottle and placing it next to the bed. ashton is staring at you in awe. "you're always the one taking care of me and i never deserved it," he says. “you deserved so much better than me." you didn't let the fact that he was incredibly intoxicated and emotional get to you.
you lower your head, nibbling on the inside of your cheek. don’t let him hurt you like this, y/n. you kept thinking to yourself, he was intoxicated and didn't mean anything. you get up to leave, eager to go home and cry into your pillow about how much he misses you. he reached for your hand, carefully gripping it, and said, "stay with me." you freeze, tilt your head, and appear torn, so he adds "please? just tonight." while staring into your eyes, desperate.
so, you stayed. laying on the opposite side of ashton, you heard his breath steady assuming he was finally going to sleep. until you heard “i love you.” you had only hoped that if you were still he’d leave it alone and would just go to sleep. but he continued. “when i left that morning, i didn’t stop. i never did. you’re my whole world, and i hate the person i’ve become. i wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, but i screwed it up.” your heart was racing, picking at your nails you felt him shuffle next to you. “you were the best thing i’ve ever had and i let you go. ‘m sorry. you can hate me. i understand.” you waited a bit, but that was the last thing he said for the night.
you ended up leaving before he woke up because it was now daylight and you didn't want to be there when he did. you stood above him before leaving, and he looked so calm. naturally, you bowed down and kissed his brow softly before exiting the room. so, you were gone by eight a.m. you had a minor breakdown on the drive home, knowing that the love is still there, and seeing him so vulnerable makes your heart ache. but you kept reminding yourself that he was drunk. he most likely didn't mean half of what he stated.
right?
you had just finished your meeting the next day and were standing in your kitchen preparing a cup of coffee when you were stopped by a rhythmic knock. you walked over leaving the cup on your counter. as you answered the door, you saw ashton.
“hey.” he said, stuffing his hands into his jacket. you stepped back, then saying “why are you here?” ashton looked around, spitting a few framed pictures of the two of you which he thought was odd. he thought you hated him. he shrugged, “i just wanted to thank you for last night, and everything.” you sighed, “come in” you stepped to the side and let him enter, then closed the door behind him. “do you want some coffee?” he sat down on the sofa.
“sure.” he answered, looking around the room. you came back with a black mug and handed it to him, and took your seat across from him.
there was a moment of silence, the two of you would steal glances at each other but didn’t want to say anything, wondering how to approach the conversation waiting to be held.
his comment was abrupt. “i meant what i said, you know.” you looked up from your coffee, to meet with his eyes already looking at you. “what?” you blinked, placing the mug on the table. “last night. everything, i meant it. from me still loving you, to wanting to spend the rest of my life with you. i meant every word.” he was being sincere, he held eye contact as he spoke and didn’t break it once.
truthfully, you didn’t know what to say. the situation wasn’t ideal, and to be honest with yourself, you knew you still loved him. “ashton..” you finally spoke, followed by a long sigh and dropping your head into your hands.
“then why do you continue to do this? you’re drinking yourself to death, ash. how can i trust that you won’t do it all over again, even if i want to work this out?” ashton stands up from his spot and moves in front of you, on his knees as he holds your hands. "i get drunk to forget the color of your eyes and the way your hair falls and how soft your skin is and the way your smile makes me feel; but it seems like the alcohol can't change my memory of you." he had been waiting to tell you this for the longest, “i do it because it’s the only way i know how to cope and i know it isn’t the best way, but it’s all i know.”
ashton runs his thumb over your knuckles. you look down at his calloused hands feeling your lip quiver “and if that isn’t enough just tell me, and i’ll leave for good.”
you shake your head letting the tears fall, “ash..i just want you to stop..all this drinking isn’t good for you, i can’t just let that happen.” you say, and he nods. “i know, i know.” he hushes your tears, raising up to hug you. “i’ll do better, i promise.” he says into your hair while wiping your tears.
“how can i trust you?” you ask
“because, i love you. and i’ll be damned if i lose you again.”
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valentiyne · 7 months
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𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗇? ꕥ 𝖺𝗌𝗁𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗋𝗐𝗂𝗇
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Ashton Irwin x Fem!Reader Summary: Getting randomly selected as a seat filler for an award show can't be as boring as it seems. Warnings: None Word Count: 1.3k Copyright © 2023 Valentiyne. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.
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Confirmation Code #AI0771994
Hello Y/n!
We received your request form for the annual MTV VMA's seat filler position. Your ticket was randomly selected and we are sending this email as a confirmation of your acceptance.
We hope to see you there!
The MTV Video Music Awards is an award show to honor the best in the music video medium. Of course, I had stumbled upon the application as an ad while scrolling through Instagram- thinking nothing of it when I filled it out months ago.
When I woke up to the confirmation email this morning, I flew out of bed and began picking out an outfit- regardless if I was five hours early. I spent most of the afternoon practicing my best smiles and poses, making sure I wasn't caught on live TV with an embarrassing face.
I stumbled down the steps, constantly checking the time over and over again. It was enough to send chills down my spine- wondering who I would get the honor to sit next to. Justin Bieber? Or even Taylor Swift? A girl can only dream it's someone she adores.
"Ticket please", The man at the front asked in a husk voice, holding up his scanner toward my phone as I showed him the confirmation email instead. His eyes scan it, using his pinky finger to scroll across the email.
"Seat filler..", He scratches his chin for a moment before turning around to speak into his earpiece, leaving me to anxiously bounce between my feet. He snaps back around, pointing behind him before leaning in,
"You're going to go straight down the hall, into the auditorium and find the next open seat. Do not scream or squeal if you're placed by a huge celebrity- it's against your policy and you will be thrown out", He hands me a wristband and I slap it around my wrist, giving him a quick 'thanks' before darting down the hall.
The auditorium was filled to the brim, the loud bickering of voices filled my ears as I tried to focus my eyes at the empty seats. There were limited seats that weren't preoccupied so I found myself circling the same corner until I spotted one in the back. I scooted through peoples legs before plopping down in a vacant seat- or so I thought.
"Excuse me ma'am? You're in my seat", I snap my eyes up and give a faint smile before clutching my purse and brushing past the lady that stood before me. I looked around once more before finding another seat a few rows up.
"Excuse me, Is this seat taken?", I leaned down to ask the man who was busy talking to the brown-haired boy on his right. He averts his gaze over to me before shaking his head and grabbing his water bottle from the seat,
"No not at all, help yourself."
I give him a thankful smile before plopping down beside him, my elbow brushing his as I propped it up on the armrest.
I started at the people seated in front of me, taking numerous selfies of themselves so I awkwardly looked to the right only to be met with hazel eyes staring back at me. He was dressed in almost casual clothes, with the exception of a leather jacket and freshly polished dress shoes. His cologne smelled like it cost more than my apartment's rent and I took note of the fact he may be a celebrity I didn't know.
"Are you a seat filler?", His voice chirps up after a few moments of awkward silence of the self-challenged staring contest. His eyes glance between my eyes and my tight black dress,
"Yeah, are you?", I shift now, turning ever so slightly to the right to fully face him with my purse on my lap.
He gives me a warm smile, flashing his dimples for a mere second before nodding. The announcer, some celebrity who's name I couldn't pronounce, introduces themselves before notifying us that the show was starting. I switch my phone on silent and slide it into my dress' pocket, taking note of the hazel eyed man next to me copying my actions.
A few big named artists preform on the stage in front of me, confetti falling occasionally. I couldn't help but glance over to the boy next to me hunched over to his right with his back towards me. I blow air into my cheeks and begin bouncing my leg nervously. A tap on my arm snapped me from my train of thought and I immediate look down to see a piece of paper at the edge of my elbow.
"This is lame"
I stifle a laugh and look up at him, reaching across to snag the pen from his hand.
"You chose to be here silly"
He leans in closer to read my tiny handwriting before gently taking the pen back,
"Something like that"
He gives a crooked smile and I roll my eyes at him causing him to pass the pen back to me,
"I'm Y/n"
"Ashton"
I whisper his name in my head, trying to put his face to a name before smiling up at him.
"We should do something after this?"
Oh he's bold.
"We could ditch now" I look up hopefully, only to find him shaking his head with a frown.
"Cant" Is all he writes before stuffing the pen back into his blazer and facing his attention to the stage.
I turn my gaze back to the front, subconsciously looking at Ashton through my peripheral vision. He doesn't move an inch nor advert his eyes in my direction for a whole hour.
The announcer walks back on stage, adjusting their hair before speaking.
"As we all know, Song of the Summer is one of the biggest awards to be given out tonight-" They start, toying with the envelope in their hand. "It is voted by fans across the globe and tonight, I'm here to announce who gets the honor to take home this award"
The audience goes silent, my eyes averting back to Ashton whose jaw was now clenched and I could've sworn I saw his eyes watering.
"And the winner for Song of the Summer goes to", the announcer unfolds the tiny envelope in front of them and smiles into the crowd. It was the last award to be given out tonight, and I could see Ashton rubbing his knees with both hands.
"5 seconds of summer!"
Ashton and the men seated next to him shoot up, hands in the air as they start shouting and jumping. The bright spotlight hits my face and I cover my eyes before a rough tug on my arm sends me up from my seat. I'm pulled into a tight embrace, large arms covering my figure as I adjust my head to look up. Ashton was hugging me, jumping up in down with me in his arms.
A song begins playing over the loud speakers and he lets go of me, patting my head before handing me the slip of paper from before.
"See you soon", he shoots me a toothy grin and follows after his friends up towards the stage. I was in disbelief, one second someone is telling you their a seat filler and the next they are a rockstar in sheep's clothing. I turn my gaze to see four pieces of paper taped to the seats that were once occupied by them,
Reserved for: Michael, Luke, Calum and Ashton
I blink a few times before sitting down to read the note that Ashton had handed me.
Hi, sorry for lying. here's my number incase you still wanted to grab a bite to eat?
###-###-####
-Ash Xx
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afi-tangerine · 8 months
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tasteful sideboob featuring the coin tattoo
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youngxcalm · 10 days
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i love
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ughkat · 7 months
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ur camera roll if ashton was ur boyfriend ❥
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gaycheeseandcrackers · 2 months
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Me just minding my business:
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Ashton starts teasing new solo music:
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Luke starts teasing new solo music:
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The band announces a new song:
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Conclusion:
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chiffonbows · 6 months
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fetus malum
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orangeinecstasy · 6 months
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bf calum thoughts ⋆ฺ。*:・
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an: couldn't get calum out of my head today sooo enjoy this blurb list!
nsfw part two
SO MUCH PHYSICAL TOUCH!!! he just wants to be as close as possible to you 24/7. whether that's holding your hand or having his arm around your waist, he just wants to be there in that moment with you
always keeps your favorite snacks and drinks in his house, not because he wants to boast about how he noticed that you like, but because he wants to
late night drives for no reason with the top down. no talking just music blasting and the comfort of you being with him
BEACH AND PARK DAYS!!!!
slow late mornings where you guys stay in bed just to stay tangled up together
his camera roll is full of pictures of you and him together, or just you tbh
sends you pictures of things that remind him of you when he's on tour
has a running list of all your favorite things from anywhere to snacks to your favorite perfume he knows
constantly getting you to listen to the bass lines or lyrics he's written to get you opinions on them
movie nights with the two of you and duke cuddled up on the couch
so many pet names. i know for a fact that babe and baby our two of his favs
back to the picture point -- sooo many of you in his clothes. could be his hoodie, or his shirt, does matter he loves it
i could honestly go on. let me know if you guys would want ones with the other 5sos guys orrrr maybe a nsfw version 🤭
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sinning5sos · 9 months
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masterlist ;)
Smut: 
Ashton: Ashton x Reader
Corrupt -> here
Freedom -> here
Punishment -> here
Too Hot -> here
Youngblood -> here
Unknown (story) | masterlist
Calum: Calum x Reader
Beautiful to Me -> here
Close -> here
Cocky -> here
Coworkers -> part one | part two
Club -> part one
Kinky -> here
Office Slut -> here
Roommates -> part one
Luke: Luke x Reader
Good Enough -> here
Golden Boy -> here
No Shame -> here
Worship -> here
Valentine -> here
#96 -> here
Michael: Michael x Reader
Afterglow -> here
Twitch -> here
Threesomes:
Cake: Luke x Calum x Reader
Have It Your Way -> here
Pool Part -> here
Choked (Have It Your Way 2) -> here
Lashton: Luke x Ashton x Reader
Be a Good Girl For Us -> here
Cashton: Calum x Ashton x Reader
Hot Tub -> here
Malum: Michael x Calum
Dare or Dare -> here
Fluff/Angst:
Ashton:
model -> here
moments | https://sinning5sos.tumblr.com/post/181472576794/moments-ashton
dating Ash would include -> part one
best years | part one
Calum:
back again | part one
best friends | part one
talk to me -> here
moments | part one
dating Calum would include -> part one
Luke:
Christmas gift -> here
piano lessons -> here
dating Luke would include -> part one
ghost of you -> here
stay -> here
Michael:
angst -> here
decisions -> here
dating Michael would include -> part one
Blurbs:
Calum:
surprise
lazy Saturday morning
thanksgiving
riding him
wedding blurb
punishment
father-to-be -> here
daddy Calum + stepmom
Ashton:
sugar baby -> part one
father-to-be -> here
birthday
how he knew -> here
possessive
Luke:
netflix & chill
teasing you
travel
attention
Christmas proposal
stand still
blowjob
boyfriend
fingers
father-to-be -> here
Michael:
father-to-be -> here
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calumsbiceps · 1 month
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find me at a quarter to three cigarette in my hand
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afatallovesong · 2 years
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Hewwooo:3 I was wondering if I can request a Ashton smut when it’s late and you’re asleep with him in bed and you have a lil naughty dream of him that it wakes him up and he gets alil annoyed but turns your dream into a reality but in a rough way?
Okay, you'll be glad to know, I actually kept to the request for once, hoorayyyyy
Hope you enjoy!!
Babe
An Ashton Irwin one shot
18+, Smut, NSFW
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Word Count: 6512
There wasn’t a clock in your room. There never had been. For as long as he’d known you. It was just one of those sounds that grated on you no matter what time of day it was. In fact, you couldn’t stand any repetitive noises. The clicking of a pen lid, the tapping of fingers on a desk, it got to you, tickled you in an uncomfortable way. Your bedroom had to be a silent sanctuary, had to. You’d so often find yourself chasing sleep, unable to catch a single wink if there was nothing short of dead silence enveloping you.
Ashton had found it strange at first, unsettling really. It was one thing he never thought he’d be able to be on board with. He never thought you two would ever work with this sound barrier between you, but he fell hard anyway. He’d dwell in the quiet life if that’s what it took to be yours and he so desperately loved being yours.
He was partial to white noise. The waves on a shore, the light humming of traffic, birds singing outside, just soft, and subtle sounds to lull him into relaxation. Being a percussionist, it felt abnormal to be in complete silence. One time he actually panicked he may have gone deaf due to the conditions in your room. He could mostly blame his exhaustion for that scenario popping into his head, but it still freaked him out every now and then if he forgot.
It didn’t come without some advantages. It made him more sensitive to sounds and movements. It made him more perceptive of you and your routines. If he couldn’t catch any sleep, he’d lay there, waiting, hoping, trying to find something to send him away. He listened to music quite often. It was the most natural release he had. He’d lay and watch you, twisted onto your side, curled into a foetal position (you always ended up there eventually). He’d watch your form rise and fall on the mattress with each breath. He’d smile at how peaceful you’d seemed. He’d thank his lucky stars for bringing you into his life and then he’d listen to song after song until he joined you in slumber. Tonight, wasn’t going to be that easy.
He'd done his stages, he’d watched you drop into your routine, curling over, hugging your knees tight. He’d put his earphones in, picked a meditational track to try and soothe him. He’d been on the road for the last few months, so used to the engine of the tour bus or the movements of the other guys in their bunks to accompany him and rock him to sleep. It was difficult to adjust back to your silence. The tracks had helped him, they started noisily, a mixture of sounds to illustrate busyness in the environment. They died down, lessening, focusing on particularly calming vibrations. As the sounds condensed, his consciousness began to feel like it was slipping away. His breathing became deeper. His arms felt heavy. He was drifting away into his own wonderful mind. Almost in bliss.
He felt movements on the mattress. Beside him your body felt like it had dipped deeper before you shuffled back and forth back over to your side. He continued to focus on sleeping, he still felt ready to drop. Your movements subsided. He decided you were just adjusting yourself, getting more comfortable. He couldn’t blame you for that. He settled down again. Just a few breathing exercises would get him there. Breathe in. Hold for four. Breathe out. Hold for four. You moved again, backside nudging into his thigh. His eyes remain closed, his fingers start to twitch at his side with agitation and possibly sexual frustration, sharing a bed with you again after so long away definitely did things to him out of his control.
Next track. He needed to start again. He needed to repeat the process from scratch. Loud noise filled his ears again. He tries to still himself, but with your newly restless body shuffling beside him, he’s beginning to lose it. He starts tapping the bed on either side of his legs. Just slow beats drumming into the sheets. He’s still committing to his breathing exercises. You bump into him again only this time he swears you mutter as you do it. He keeps his earphones in but begins to listen out for you over the volume.
You’re mumbling. He wonders if you’re having a nightmare. If that’s why you can’t sleep in one set position. It was unusual for you to be so fidgety otherwise. He aches at the thought of you scared. He’d dive into your subconscious and protect you from your demons if he could. He wonders if he can soothe you from here, let you know he’s got you, that you’re safe. Your body stills as he thinks of it. Perhaps you’d made it out without him. He was alone once again.
You were still for a few more minutes. He’d been surrounded by the sweet sounds of the coast, sand crunching beneath footsteps, water washing over the shore, birds singing overhead as they flew. He was sinking. He was so close. He takes deeper breaths, mouth parting beyond his control. He starts to picture things in his mind, nothing that made sense, just images, colours, and shapes it would take hours to decipher the meaning of. It’s pretty, its bright and it’s so him. He’s so light, he’s weightless, floating away and- fuck. You made the strangest sound.
He removes his left earphone to see if you make it again. Nothing comes from you. Perhaps his own mind was playing tricks on him, keeping him awake as some kind of special torture created just for him. He definitely heard something. He swears it. There! You’re humming, almost whining. Your body shuffles a little. You’d left your ball of comfort, instead you lay on your side, one leg straight, the other bent on top of it.
He rolls onto his side now abandoning both earphones to focus his attention on you. He doesn’t reach out, doesn’t try to touch you. He just watches you. You seem peaceful enough. You were moving. You were rocking, sort of. He couldn’t find a better way to describe it. You were in motion, as if you were trying to get somewhere without ever really going. You huffed and sighed. It seemed like you were frustrated. He decided you could be stressed. Work had been hectic on both of your ends. You could just be tackling your problems in your sleep. He wasn’t sure. He wanted to help though.
He strokes over your back silently. He expects a reaction from you. He’s not sure what exactly, but something. You were well and truly, fast asleep. You continue your shuffling. He decides he may as well keep attempting to soothe you. It’s not as if he had anything better to do. He’d abandoned the idea of sleeping all together. If it happened later on then so be it but for now, all eyes were on you.
He swears your whines were getting louder. They were fewer and farther between. When they did appear, you were clear as day. He’d be lying if his attraction earlier in the night hadn’t crept back up on him again. He was rock solid, much against his will he thought. But then you moaned. You moaned his name. It was so sweet, so intoxicating. He thought he’d hallucinated. His eyes nearly bugged out of his skull. His hand dropped from your back. He waited for another. “Ash.” He held his breath. You weren’t having a nightmare, no, far from it. You were having a dream. A sweet like sugar, dripping with honey, sex dream. He’d never felt pride like it.
He thought about waking you. Even with the realisation that you were just as hot for him as he was for you, it didn’t feel right to purposefully stir you. He instead opted for sliding in closer behind you. He threw an arm around your waist. He buried his face in your hair and he held you. He held you closely into his chest. He just hugged you to him. The time for your shuffling was over. You’d leant back into him. You’d accepted his touch. It was as if he’d answered your prayers and given you what you needed unintentionally. He might have been slightly disappointed that all you wanted was a cuddle. He still wouldn’t say he didn’t love that. He did. He loved that you were needy for his closeness even in slumber.
“Ash.” You call. It’s quiet. It’s above a whisper but just barely. He wants to respond. He’s not sure if you’re sleep talking once more. “Ash.” You whisper it again. He kisses your shoulder to alert you he was there; he was with you. “You okay?” He chuckles into your skin, kissing you again. He wants to smother you in kisses. An appreciation. “I’m good, how are you?” He decides to do it. He litters the top of your spine, the tops of your shoulders. “I’m okay.” Your breath hitches as his kisses wander. “What you dreamin about?” You blush, he can’t see you, but you still blush. “You.”
He smirks into your skin. The blood is running straight between his legs. “Wondered what you were doing.” He begins his affections again. You shudder under the warmth of him. “Did I wake you?” Your breath is still shaky. “That would imply I slept at all.” He sucks a kiss into your left shoulder. “Which I haven’t quite managed.” You felt guilt. “It’s not your fault.” He adds, answering your thought. “So tired I’m not tired at all, you know?” You did. You knew it all too well. If you hadn’t been prescribed sleeping medication in the last year you don’t know where you’d be. Exhausted in a hole somewhere, was that too dramatic to imagine?
“Can I help?” You turn your face slightly. You try to catch a glimpse of him even if it hurts your neck to chase the idea. “I don’t know, can you?” You roll your eyes instinctively. He takes a bold step. He nudges your thighs, you separate them without question, allowing his knee to slot between them. He presses his leg right against your cotton clad cunt. You’re embarrassed at how wet you’d been. “I think I can help you though.” He rocks his leg torturously slowly over your pants. You don’t dare to fight the urge to grind down onto him.
He laughs a breathy chuckle over your neck. “Tell me about your dream.” You want to curl up and hide. You found it mortifying. You didn’t want to confess. You knew he’d never judge you. He never had. It still felt like this was something too personal. The inner workings of your mind. They were inner workings for a reason. “Come on, don’t be shy.” His leg switched pace. His hands grip onto your hips, burrowing into the thick flesh of them. He’s pulling you down onto him. You’re meeting his thigh, bouncing almost. You gasp, pussy clenching for something he hadn’t yet provided. “Tell me baby.” He nips your earlobe, and you lose it.
“Just you, you coming home, fucking me.” He gathered that much already. “That’s what got you all restless and rutting in your sleep.” He digs his fingers deeper, in a way that hurt, but a way that you’d begged for before. “Why don’t I believe you?” You bite down on your bottom lip as the heat pools between your legs. There was something so dangerous about the situation. You withholding information could lead to all kinds of punishment. Your pussy was drenched with your anticipation.
“I could stop. Let you go back to your dream; you liked me there.” You huff. “You’d really stop.” He hears the sadness in your tone, and he’s glad it’s there. “If you can’t be honest with me, how can I give you what you need?” You think about it but not for too long. You lean your head back, neck stretching, beckoning his lips to latch onto it. He does as he assumes you want. He attaches his teeth just below a vein pumping away.
“You fuck me everywhere. Every room. You just don’t stop. Say you missed me so much.” He’s humming with contentment at your words. “God, like a feral animal or something.” He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. “I loved it, Ash I need it. Need it like that.” He’s stirring from your words. He’s rocking his pelvis as well as his thigh. Shit. “You fucked me on the couch. Sat back and watched me ride you. Said you missed the way I wrapped around you.” He’s letting his hands wander, encouraging your words, drawing them from within. “You choked me.” Nothing new to him there. “Said you wanted to taste me.” This all seemed so normal. He retreats from you. “No, no please.”
He sighs. “Why do I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me?” He doesn’t limit his hips, or his thigh moving. He just refuses to kiss you until you spit it out. “You wanted to cum in me. You needed to.” He felt his cock twitch at the thought of it. He never tired of filling you, didn’t suppose he ever would. “You said you wanted to taste it, Ash.” You start to grind down desperately onto his thigh. He realises just how close you were from sputtering your secrets. His mouth parts, jaw going slack. “Taste you.” He repeats. You nod quickly. You’re chasing your orgasm and he’s in slow motion processing your words. “You cum in me and you beg for a taste.” You groan.
Ash doesn’t think about his next move. He just does it. He’s sliding away from you. He’s standing from his side of the bed and he’s walking to the door. You’re panicking. Your chest is tightening, and you feel like you might cry. You were scared. He’d forced it out of you, and he’d left you upon hearing it. You pull yourself into a sitting position, eyes fixating on the wooden panels that line your bedroom. “Living room, now.” He orders. Your head snaps into the direction of the door. You choke on air.
You scramble out of your bedroom. You run down the hall faster than a kid on Christmas morning. When you reach the living room he’s seated on the sofa, thighs spread, hands tapping into them with impatience. You walk over to him, not seductively nor confidently. You were too timid for that. Your teeth had been tucked away into your bottom lip so deep you tasted the metallic flavouring of blood. “You take all that time and don’t even have the decency to remove your panties.”
He's pulling you in by the hips. He’s looking up at you, chin resting just above the lining of your underwear. Your fingers tuck themselves into his hair. You couldn’t have loved him more. He thinks the same. Looking up at you, the light around your head pronouncing you as some kind of angel. You were more than that, to him you were far more.
His fingers start to shift the thin fabric separating you. You don’t speak as he removes it. You just watch him. He slides them effortlessly down your thighs and he kisses you every now and again. He gives into his temptations, and he showers you in his love. “Gonna make your dreams come true.” He prods your calf, alerting you to lift your leg to step out of your underwear. “Yeah?” He laughs. Why is he always laughing? Everything was so damn amusing to him. “If it gets you that worked up-“he jolts your body into him and you take the warning to sit, knees sliding on either side of his thighs. “I need to see what all the hype is about hmm.”
You’re stood on your knees, breasts just before his face. He doesn’t let his eyes drop to them even once. He’s so focused on your eyes, so present and in the moment with you. “Want me?” You whine at it. “Need you.” You lower your face to kiss him. Your breasts bump into his chest as your bodies meet. He’s sighing into your lips, arms wrapping around you, pulling you down onto his lap. You’d not realised how perfectly lined up you had been until he slipped inside of you within a moment.
You surge forward even more. Your kiss rough on his lips. He’s devouring you. You’re the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted, and he’d be lying if he didn’t accept that as an addiction because that’s what you were to him, an inescapable feeling, a drug, he was endlessly begging to be prescribed. “Fuck.” You breathe over his lips. “You’re soaking me.” His nose brushes against your own. “You complaining?” He pulls your hair, your neck tilting all the way back. “Don’t forget your place.” You clench down on him and he smirks. “Pussy knows who you belong to so why don’t you.” You’re shuddering at his words.
He brings his lips to yours as his hands lower. Your stomach flutters as his rough fingers skim over you on their path down to your throbbing clit. “You feel close.” He mutters. You nod. His gentle touch just above your clit sends you mad. He was doing it on purpose. “Just can’t seem to find it.” He rubs another portion of you, and you whimper. “You’re horrible.” He reaches it and you gasp. “Ahh, there she is.” You fasten your lips on his, tired of his teasing when you’re aching for a release. You’d known you were hot, known you’d been horny, but this was frantic. This was pathetic. You felt like you would have died if he hadn’t given himself to you. Maybe you would have. You’re glad you didn’t have to find out.
“Gonna cum.” You tear away from his lips to warn him. He’s grinning. He’s surprised, you’d never finished this fast. He was so pleased you were going to. He couldn’t claim it as entirely his doing, but he wouldn’t dare tell you that. He was going to own it, to own you and he was going to cum. His cock had been teetering on the edge of bliss since the moment your ass brushed his thigh accidentally.
“Give it to me.” He starts thrusting upwards from beneath you. “Come on.” He’s pulling you in. You’re almost there. Just a few more strokes. Just a few more bites of his fingernails into your hips and you’re spilling over. You’re crashing around him. “Oh god, oh fuck.” He’s cumming. He couldn’t handle it. The moment you tightened around his length he was a goner. He’s fastening his lips around your breast. Your nipple slotted between his teeth, pinching it, aiding your release. You were shaking. You’d felt so much and all at once. His teeth, what was he doing to you? You felt so light, so unreal. You weren’t even here in the room.
Your lap sinks down eventually, ass sitting comfortably on his thighs allowing you to catch a much-needed breath. He fastens his arms tightly around your waist, surging your body forward to capture your lips as if he’d been away from you for far too long. You’re panting into each other. He kisses you with an astonishing vigour despite the exhaustion washing over the both of you, the sleeplessness. Its only seconds before your tongue is back in his mouth, hands wrapped in his locks just like they had been before. His cock twitches ecstatically inside of you, still deep and leaking his arousal into you. He shocks you, lifting his lap, rotating you along with his knees, left towards the rest of the couch. You panic at the shift, not even the action itself. With a quick motion he’s lifting, cock nearly slipping from you entirely.
“Don’t, I’ll make a mess.” He wants to smirk and provide a proud “Yes you will.” But he fights the urge. You felt him leaking from you, it was only a matter of time before the mixture of your finishes were staining the couch beneath you. This is it; you think. He’d going to do it. He’s going to taste. He pushes you onto your back with a huff, bodies still tangled, cock still firm within you. “No, no baby.” He coos. He kneels between your legs, chest pressed to yours, eyes looking down between you both to your connected state that he’d managed to keep. “Cause you’re going to fucking keep it inside of you.” If you could do anything but moan, you don’t even think you would.
He brushes a gentle finger across your clit to accompany his words, your pelvis reacts, lifting into him, needily humping at him. He drops his mouth into a little “o.” Deep down he wasn’t surprised, you had always been desperate for him, even if you fought it, but he didn’t need you to know that. “Still sensitive.” You want to whimper; you suspect you may have. “Bucking your hips for me.” He observed. His knack for noticing even your most disguised form of pleasure taking had always gotten on your nerves. There was no surprising him, he was far too intelligent and in tune with your reactions to let an action like that go unnoticed. He tuts. “Still hard for you.” He laughs, his own hips rocking. Is that why he hadn’t moved yet?
“Feel it?” You nod. “Yeah?” He’d have liked words, words were always better than glances or pathetic shakes of your head, but you were so worn out, you’d done so well, and he was so proud of you, but your job just wasn’t done. “Want me to use you? Make it go away.” It was never what you intended but you weren’t upset. You nod more, pouting your lips for some kind of pity from him, any kind. “You want a kiss?” He cups your face in his hand. His fingers stroke over your tear-stained cheek. It wasn’t a terrible thing to find the dampness there. He knew he hadn’t pushed too far, knew he hadn’t hurt you, because he never would, and even if he had by some form of accident, you’d have told him. You instead cried from frustration and then more so for release. An orgasm you’d worked too hard for, held for so long and then finally on his commands you were elated to be granted it. So euphoric that you’d cried with joy.
“Maybe you should make me cum first. Since this whole thing was your idea and you dragged me into it.” He toys with the idea in his mind. You’d tantrum if he did it. Which would have been a hindrance if it didn’t result in some kind of punishment, he quite enjoyed the idea of giving. You hadn’t misbehaved in so long he was starting to worry that he hadn’t corrupted you as much as he’d been bragging about to his friends. On the other hand, you were so good for him recently, it would be fair to give you what you need, while he takes what he needs, and he could be fair. Choices, choices. Your lips were just there, so plump, swollen from his kiss already. “Fuck, you know you always get a kiss.”
He leans into you, his nose slots neatly beside yours, head tilting to glide his lips over your own. You release all of the tensions in your body, drowning in the sofa and his love. You give yourself over to him. A kiss with him was all you’d ever needed; you’d give your life for another if the occasion was ever there. He enjoys it too, just as much, if not more. He wanders back to the thought of you around him though, your tongue slipping into his mouth not as distracting as it usually was. Of course, he’s not usually inside of you for this long, never warms himself inside your wetness in this way and my God, you are so wet. You’re dripping.
Your mixed juices almost unbearable to contain. Even with a mesmerising kiss such as this, he found it nearly impossible to act as if he wasn’t enjoying the feeling of you. You’d ruined your couch, there was no doubt in your mind or his, about that. He felt bad, sure, but not enough for him to stop. Couch be damned, he thought. He could buy you a new one if it didn’t clean well enough, God knows he already built you a new bed after cracking the last one. It was an investment at this point, the use it would have. He may as well make the most of you now the damage was done, waste not, want not, just imagine it being sexier.
His hips pistol into you, skin slapping yours, the noise echoing through the living room just the way you liked it. You’re no longer a tight glove fixed around him, you’re instead just a wet hole, filled to the brim with him. You’re something he can ram into, no concern for the stretch, for the potential pain of his first thrust. He wished he had the stamina to do this more often. To take you like this. Your tightness over his cock was his weakness but this, this was just divine. The promise of your pleasure and the wetness of your orgasm had given him such a high level of satisfaction that you may as well have ruined sex for him for the rest of his life. This is what it means to make love, this is how good it feels.
“Fuck, so fucking good.” You mutter, tears forming again out of your control. “Say it again, tell me how good it is.” He latches his teeth onto your shoulder, hands kneading your ass, pulling you up from the cushions, allowing him to drive into you deeper. You’re melting under the intensity, and he knows it but it’s just too good, you’re too good. He feels like if he didn’t communicate it, didn’t run it by you, then he wasn’t doing it right. He needed you, your tone, your moans, your tears. “Fuck me so good. Use me like I’m nothing.”
He wants to roll his eyes with pleasure, you were so fucked out and still you knew the right words to say. You were stirring him in a way that only you could. “Not nothing baby, you’re not nothing.” You were fucking everything. He’d tell you if he wasn’t so pent up. He mumbles, shaking his head to focus on his cock, its sensitivity inside your slick cunt. “Best fucking pussy.” He’d be more romantic, but he didn’t have it in him. He wants to cry. You clench around him, and he wants to fucking cry.
Your eyes flutter closed, his lips find yours and you gratefully litter his soft lips with as many kisses as you can muster to encompass his moans. You wanted to help him so badly. “Fuck, fuck, I’m so close.” He’s whiny and desperate. He sounds like such a little bitch, and he knows it, worries about it, but he can’t stop. You’d wrecked him. He wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t capable of holding on, pretending he had it together. He was falling apart at the seams. He was succumbing to your hold on him. You had weakened him into a needy state he’d never once imagined he’d be adept to and there was no more holding off.
“Come on, sweet boy, cum for me.” You play with his chain, fingers grasping the metal, his eyes rocketing down to your fingers. “Doing so good for me.” He lets out a huff of air, before another small wail. He’s so close, he’s hellbent on fighting it. He wants more, wants you to finish too. He knew it was too ambitious. There was no way he’d last through it. He was so disappointed in himself. “Give it to me.” You push, hoping to awaken his dominant side. It was okay to take what he wanted from you. “Give me everything.”
You can’t describe the sound he made accurately enough. It was a gut-wrenching desperation. You felt so bad for him, fighting for his finish, holding himself back, sweet boy. “Want my cum?” His eyes are soft when they look to yours. You see water pooling at his lower lash line and your heart hurt to see it. You want to reach out and tell him it’s okay, so unused to seeing him this way. This was usually a reaction shown on your own face not his.
“Yes, yes please.” You moan melodically to coax him closer. You caress his cheek with the back of your hand and his lips slip down to your wrist to place a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss there. “Say it baby please.” He wants to be demanding and strong but he’s on the brink of utter despair. “Say you want my cum, please fucking say you want it.” He’s fucking into you so erratically, so harshly. He barely maintains eye contact, your precious gaze too much for him to bear. Your heart breaks for him. “Need it Ash, need your cum, want to feel it.” You kiss him between sentences. “Want all of it, give it to me, cum in me.”
He lets out a strangulated groan as his cock pulses and leaks into you drop by drop. His eyes snap shut, his lips twitching and contorting involuntarily. He’s overcome by an ethereal bliss he’d never known before. He felt rather invincible. He thought he came hard the first time but now saw that he was entirely wrong, never been more wrong actually. “Fuck, fuck Ash, oh it feels-“he cuts you off with ease, “like fuckin heaven.” He admits. “Exactly like heaven.” You confirm as his forehead pushes to rest on your own, his face is turning subtly as he comprehends the power of the emotion wracking his body. “You’re my heaven, you know that?”
He meets your eyes. You take heavy breaths together. Your eyes transfixed on one another. There was a connection between you so strong in this moment that it felt like you were the only two people in existence. No one else had ever come close. There were never two souls more meant for each other than you and him. Shaking breaths and the thudding of hearts against your two chests had envisioned that.
Water gathers, clumping your lower lashes together. He’d wipe them dry with his thumb only he can’t take his eyes away from them long enough to move. The small pearls of tears forming before beginning their journey of sliding down your pretty cheeks. How lucky they were to touch you in such a way. He wanted them to evaporate before they had the opportunity to fall but there was just something so touching about the way you empathised with him. Crying at the sign of his finish, so deeply grateful that he had the chance to, enough to stir you into a reaction like this.
He wants to stay. He wants to live in your warmth for eternity, but he still has a job to do. He has to make your dream come true. God help him he’d thought of nothing else since you uttered it. “Gonna pull out.” He pecks your lip. “Give you what you wanted.” You’re throbbing again. How was it that you were throbbing?
He’ll admit he wasn’t turned on by the idea of the taste. He’d never been curious. He hadn’t wanted to know. It was the way you had wanted it that caught him off guard. You were the only reason he’d ever attempt something like this. That’s what he thought at first. Then his tongue lapped up the waterfall cascading from you. He cleaned up the liquid you’d leaked. You pushed your pelvis into him and suddenly he was thirsty. He was dehydrated. He was parched.
He hooked his arms under your thighs bringing you ever closer to him and he buried his tongue inside of you. He only meant to try it. He only meant to lick a little, gather the taste on his lips before bringing them back to yours to share the flavour. He couldn’t pull himself away. He wanted more. He wanted every last drop. You were moaning so loud, even over the noises of him lapping away at your shared juices, he heard your moans. “Fuck, Ash.” He was so hungry. You were going to cum again from the determined look in his eyes alone.
He never stopped. Even when he felt the warm fluids dripping from his lips, down his chin and onto the cushion beneath him, he didn’t stop. You were cumming again, your hips were jittering, twitching into his mouth. He was like a man possessed. “Too much, oh my god, fuck Ash.” Your hands were in his hair, trying to pull him away and despite him wanting to fight you on it, he withdrew himself. You stared at him bewildered. He may have looked the same, wiping his chin with the back of his hands as he sat back on his knees. “I gotta lock you down.”
He leans to kiss your lips, but you let out and exhausted laugh before he can, just missing him by an inch. “Don’t know what’s so funny.” He feigns offence all while smiling, as if he hadn’t just done what he just did. As if it hadn’t phased him. He didn’t think he cared. He chases your kiss a second time, you escape him with an intangible ease again. He sighs with annoyance before trapping your face, his thumb on one cheek the rest of his fingers on the other, stationing you in place. He kisses your pouting lips, you let your eyes roll back as you taste yourself on his mouth. It was far greater than you ever thought it would be and you weren’t too wrecked to acknowledge it. He pulls away finally before releasing you to continue speaking. You were lucky you were cute.
“As I was saying.” You roll your eyes at his persistence rather than eroticism. “Don’t give me that. Where’s this attitude coming from?" He’s mocking you and you love that; he’d flipped the switch immediately back to sweet boyfriend mode. You loved it, but he also sounds demeaning and if you were brutally honest, quite parental in the way he scolded you. You knew a blush had coated your cheeks at the realisation. You wonder if this was the only time, he’d exhibited that authority or if it was just the only time, you’d caught it. “Just made you cum twice is all, think I get a little credit.” He nods his head, but you know it’s not in agreement it’s in consideration of your case. “Think you make the rules cause your pussy can’t keep away from me.” You sure hoped you didn’t, you wanted a telling off.
You try so hard not to laugh when he speaks again. “I’m just a big joke to you hmm.” He’s in a borderline tantrum state, ready to lecture you jokingly until you behaved. If it wasn’t for the pending pout, you’d continue to push him into retaliation. You instead kiss him sweetly to soften him, but his features remain depleted. “I’m not mad, baby, just disappointed.”
You can’t fight it anymore. “You’re so fucking weird.” You nearly snort, ruining any chances of being sexy ever again. He really was acing this paternal disapproval. He’d heard that line many times in his life. He grins back, he knew he was being ridiculous, but it was too fun to stop now. It was late, you were so exhausted, but you were hit with such a pleasant come down that you’d feared you’d be awake for the next 24 hours just to enjoy this euphoria with him. This level of giddiness and goofiness that had you quickly grasping the idea that he just might be the only other person on earth who understood you.
“You’re so right, and so fucking rude at the same time. I just ate your pussy so hard, and you’re sat here laughing at me. Got me tasting my own cum because you begged and you’re mocking me. Hurts baby. Remind me why I like you.” He arches a brow as if he didn’t know the million reasons inside and out. You try something, a gentle reminder, a simplistic action. You watch his face to see if it has any affect. You clamped your hand down on him, squeezing his softening length while tangling the fingers of your spare hand in his hair. You felt him twitch and almost think he’d hardened again from it. “Yeah, you’re right.” He sighs into your neck that he now buries his face in briefly. You smile with a satisfaction money can’t buy, not even his.
“Can’t just squeeze me like that to get a win.” He pouts against your throat. “It’s all I got baby.” You stroke his hair, taming his locks albeit aimlessly considering it was practically sentient with a life form of its own bouncing it back into its previous position. “Think you got more going for you than that.” Ever the sweetheart he beams at you. “That’s probably one of your finer skills though.” You take it back; he’s a dick and you hate him. “But you do it so well.” He patronises and strings out the Ls. “Thanks babe.” You scoff. “You’re so welcome babe.” He always needed the last word. “Love you babe.” You combat. He smirks before he speaks again. “Eh, you’re alright.”
He earns a swift smack to the side of his head, you didn’t apply much force, but you suspected that even if you had, that indestructible barrier of hair would have softened the blow anyway. “Love you sooooooo much.” He pecks your lip. “Babe.” You’d always hated the word but coming from his tongue, you loved the way it sounded. “Still gonna to lock you down.” You groan, writhing beneath him as if to escape the coming monologue despite knowing you were well and truly trapped beneath him. “Make you no good for anyone else hmm.” He pins your wrists like it’s nothing. “You’re hot.” He really was. “You’re also relentless.” He resents that, even if it is the truth. “Yeah, well if I annoyed you that much you wouldn’t be dreaming bout my dick.” He had several other points to add but he felt it best to with withdraw from the argument. “You love me though, right?” He couldn’t tell if he was playing or genuinely vulnerable enough to need it said. “Of course.” You kiss him, he let out a sigh of relief. “Dream Ash anyway.”
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bartxnhood · 8 months
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complete mess | a.f.i
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ashton irwin x reader
summary: based on this request
warnings: mentions of bad relationships, alcohol, some language.
requests open
not proofread
Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.
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you stood alone, abandoned at the bar. lucas, your boyfriend, was nowhere to be seen. on the verge of tears, you began to feel very frustrated with his actions.
sure, you expected this from him, but on your birthday? did he not care about you at all? you looked over the sea of people, dancing, talking, drinking, and eating in an attempt to find your boyfriend but, nothing. your eyes landed on ashton, he saw the sadness in your eyes and knew.
this sadness has been lurking in your eyes for months now. no matter how badly you tried to hide it and put on a facade, ashton saw right through it.
you had become so insecure because of lucas, and ashton was tired of it. you deserved someone worth your time, you deserved someone who would look at you like you were the only thing good in this world. you deserved someone to treat you like you were the most delicate person on the face of the earth.
you deserved someone better.
he wished you wanted him.
to ashton, you were the best thing in his life. you had such a beautiful smile, the way you lit up as if he had done something stupid and you couldn’t help but laugh. you were the brightest star in the night sky. you made ashton a better person. and to see lucas belittle you, seeing you lose the light in your eyes, watching you slowly creep into a shell of made him angry. this wasn’t supposed to happen to you. not his y/n. not ashton best girl.
pushing past the crowd of people, peter was determined to be by your side. “y/n.” ashton emerged,. “ash” you sighed, feeling weight being lifted from your shoulders. “he left me.” you finally blurted, you felt a pang in your chest knowing tears would soon follow. ashton wrapped his arms around you, letting your head rest on his chest. “i know” he sighed, rubbing your back gingerly. “ash, your shirt” you huffed, looking up at him. afraid of ruining it with your makeup. “shh it’s fine” he shook his head, wiping away your tears with his callused thumb. he held you for a minute, but it felt like forever to you. “cmon, im taking you home.” he suggested, pulling away and reaching for your hand. “you don’t need to be here.” you nodded, following behind him and out the large doors.
exiting the building, ashton’s touch never left the small of your back. “he had no right to do that to you, y/n/n” he huffed. you knew he was upset, and so were you. thinking you could get over your feelings for ashton but you only got hurt in return.
oh, foolish heart.
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you had been swooning after ashton since high school. always liked him from a distance, even if the two of you were the best of friends.
you weren’t good with confrontation, let alone rejection. because what if he rejected you? how could the two of you possibly stay friends after something like that?
but when you had got with lucas just a few years out of high school, ashton was the first to tell you his feelings.
even if it was a little too late.
“i can’t believe he would be that stupid to leave you alone. if i see him, i’m gonna-“ you were quick to grab his hand, cutting him off. “ash. don’t. just relax.”
ashton had accepted that lucas was your boyfriend but he’d still do everything he could to be in your life, as long as you were happy, he was happy. but seeing you so broken, and being used. he couldn’t let it continue.
“promise me something, y/n?” your eyes met with his. both of you stopping in your tracks. “end it with him. you don’t need someone like that in your life.”
“i will.”
ashton had suggested he take you back to his place, to avoid seeing lucas when he came back later that evening.
you sat on the edge of ashtons bed, still in your dress while ashton had gotten you some water and advil to help with your growing headache. your eyes stared out the window, the night illuminated by only the stars. “i brought you some extra clothes, in case you wanted to change.” he entered the room, some folded clothes in hand, and laid them next to you. your eyes followed him, “thank you.” he nodded, “it’s no problem” he shot you a sympathetic smile and handed you the medicine and bottle.
“you’re always saving me, ash. thank you” you sniffled as you took the two painkillers and downed them with a swig of water.
ashton only hummed, watching you take the clothes in hand and making your way to the bathroom.
and when you returned, ashton had changed as well. you tossed the blaxl dress on the floor and went back to ashton’s bed.
“feel better?” he looked up at you, only getting a shrug from you. “can you help me take my hair down? there’s a lot of pins” he patted the spot in front of him which you scooted over and he proceeded to pick the pins out of your hair. “you know” ashton started, “lucas has no idea what he’s missing out on.” you simply shrugged, you couldn’t stomach talking about him again.
“i don’t know what i was thinking, i thought i could get my mind off someone else, but i only got hurt worse. i’m so stupid” a dry laugh escapes your lips. ashton paused, now knowing why you had started dating lucas. but his shoulders dropped knowing you probably liked someone else. “stop. stop blaming yourself.” he hummed.
his scratchy voice sending chills down your spine. you only let your shoulders drop. looking down at your hands. soon enough he had gotten a majority of the pins out. and with that, you finally let your hair down letting up the stress on the scalp.
ashton got a whiff of the scent of your shampoo and he couldn’t help but look away. you still haven’t changed it all these years. that familiar floral smell filled his nostrils. it was still the same kind you used in high school, he wishes he could smell forever.
it was obvious you liked someone else. you discarded the hairpins, and sat next to ashton again. “if it wasn’t for you, i’d be so lost. i’m so glad you came into my life” you smiled sadly, and he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “you’ll always have me in your corner. id do anything for you, you know that.” you nodded. you did know, hell, if you didn’t have him you’d still be miserable. he was always there for you. no matter what.
you were now curled up on ashtons chest, your eyes still glued to the window. not saying anything, you thought he had fallen asleep by now. but when you looked up at him, he was looking down at you. “i thought you were asleep.” he laughed, a simple shake of his head. you smiled, the dim light of his lamp made his skin look so beautiful, the way his hair lay in his eyes, and how he looked at you. you could stare at him for ages.
you felt your heart beating, feeling as if it would beat out of your chest. you wondered if this was the moment you’d tell ashton how you felt for the past decade.
“what’s on your mind?” he asks softly, you hum. thinking if this was the right moment and if the words that were about to spill from your lips were a good idea. your eyes flicked from his hazel eyes to your fingers, picking at your cuticles.
“do you remember a while back when you confessed to me and i had just gotten with lucas?” you ask. when you look up you see him studying you. he nods slowly, “yeah?”.
you puff your cheeks then release the air, sighing. “i liked you too at the time, and i still..well..i love you. i was with lucas simply because i thought you didn’t like me like that..” you groaned quietly, realizing how stupid it sounded.
you saw his face contort, trying to process your words. you can’t seem to read his expression. he falls silent for a moment, replaying his confession over and over again. it was all making sense.
“ash?” you say, hoping he wouldn’t be so upset with you. “i wish you would’ve told me sooner..” he says, followed by a sigh. you frown, assuming you have missed your opportunity with your best friend.
“but..” he continued, “i still love you, y/n. i have since we were teenagers. i don’t think id ever be able to get over you. you have me wrapped around your finger and i’d do anything for you.”
you feel your heart racing, your cheeks flushed pink, and you feel like you were back in high school.
“ashton, will you kiss me?”
the brown-haired boy stared at you, hazel eyes wide. his lips parted, “did you just ask if i’d-“ “kiss me” you interrupted him. this time begging him. “please” you whispered. ashton sat up, his eyes not leaving yours once as he brought his hand to your cheek and then pressed his lips on yours ever so lightly. afraid he would hurt you in any way. his lips felt so soft against yours. pure bliss engulfed your body. this was what you imagined your kiss with ashton to be like. when he pulled away, eyes meeting with yours his cheeks were flushed. having such a huge crush on you, he never thought he would have this moment with you.
your hands on his neck, you leaned in again connecting your lips. this time this kiss was longer and more intimate. your hands tangled in his brown curls while he was resting on your lower back, occasionally pulling you in. when you pulled away, catching your breath you couldn’t help but stare at him. his hand ran over your waist, playing with the hem of your shirt as the two of you watched the other, breathing each other in. ashton’s smiles, his calloused thumb tracing your cheekbone. “you make me complete, y/n.”
maybe this birthday wasn’t so bad after all.
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valentiyne · 7 months
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𝗅𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗆𝗉 ꕥ 𝖺𝗌𝗁𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗋𝗐𝗂𝗇
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Boxer!Ashton Irwin x Fem!Reader @bartxnhood Summary: Wrong place right time or right place wrong time? A/n: This is a work of fiction: I am aware Ashton is a sweetheart Warnings: A-hole Ashton, Major swearing Word Count: 2k Copyright © 2023 Valentiyne. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.
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Irwin vs. Hemmings
Tonight 6pm @ The Lola
My ears were ringing from the loud shrill of the bell above me. There were numerous people in the makeshift ring in front of me, but two of them caught my camera's attention: One guy with shaggy brown hair and hazel eyes, and the other being blonde with piercing blue orbs staring into the crowd. My camera hung around my neck, gripped into my hands to ensure It wouldn't fall in any way.
"In this corner, we have Dr. Flukeeeee", The crowd goes wild once the blue-eyed boy walks into the middle of the ring, beating his chest. I raise my camera quickly to snap a few photos, making sure I have every perfect angle.
The people around me towered over me, my hair pulled back into two tight braids with bows at the ends, and the minimal clothing I wore to try and fit in. There was no way anyone would believe I belonged here- I was a college student who had an assignment to capture an "adrenaline high" photograph with an unexpected muse.
"And in this corner, we have Smashtonnnn Irwinnnn!", The referee shouts into the microphone, the crowd jumping up and down as the shaggy-haired boy walks forward with a mere smirk on his face. He seemed modest about the situation, his body relaxed and his eyes filled with confidence and determination. I end up sandwiched between two older men, my camera squished up against my chest and I try and get a good look at the two.
The two boys set themselves in position, their mouthguards tucked away in their mouths before the bell goes off once again.
The blonde is the first to move, stepping forward and throwing a right jab at the brunette. In return, He jumps back and begins circling around his opponent with locked eyes. They're both breathing quickly, sweat dripping down their foreheads and backs.
The brunette throws a left hook, his bare fist colliding with the blonde's jaw, sending him flat on his back. The crowd collectively let out gasps and I inch my way through the crowd, squeezing my way to the front. I reached the front of the wave of people, my camera raised up high and taking as many shots as I possibly could get being this close. The blonde stands back up, staggering slightly as he regains his balance and spits out a mouthful of blonde.
"Oh my god", I whisper to myself, looking around at the sea of people shouting nonsense and threats to one another. A few threw money at the judges, betting on the two and who'd knock each other out first. I couldn't tear my eyes away, no matter how much I wanted to. The sight before me was gorey- blood combined with sweat or spit laid out on the floor.
I took as many pictures as my storage card allowed before lowering the camera right as the brunette walked toward his corner and sat down. His face was mangled, blood dripping from his mouth and nose and all over his white uniform. I stood directly behind him now, his back shining from the bright LED standing light. His crew sprayed water in his mouth and patted him down with cold towels, screaming insults at him to get his adrenaline flowing. I look up at him, his eyes averting from the ring and to his coach who crouched next to him and spoke in his ear. His head immediately swung back and his hazel eyes locked with mine for a moment, a puzzled look on his face as he looked between me and the crowd.
The bell rings one last time, signaling the last match is beginning and he tears his eyes from mine quickly and stands up while shoving his bloodied mouth guard back into his mouth. He stumbles his way back into the middle of the ring, his body begging to drop but he continues forward. The blonde throws a jab, missing the brunette by mere inches. He takes this as an opportunity and swings quickly, his bare fist colliding with the other's jaw with a loud crack.
The bell dings multiple times indicating that the brunette has won the match.
The crowd erupts around me, pushing my body forward harshly and I have to huddle myself around the camera to protect it. Everyone shouted nonsense towards the ring, the blonde laying face down as blood poured out of his lips and nose- he was alive thankfully but was unconscious.
The bodies swarmed around me, chanting the last name of the winner and I could feel myself get pulled further down and towards the cold concrete beneath me. I attempted to balance myself, putting one hand on my camera and the other in front of me incase I did go down.
I suddenly feel a pair of calloused hands wrap around my underarms, pulling me harshly upwards back onto my feet, and through the crowd. My camera dangles around my neck and my body gets pulled forward, leading me towards an unmarked hallway. It was too dark to see, my head spinning as I try and collect my thoughts and make out what was going on.
Am I seriously being kidnapped right now?
I look down at the hand that was tightly wrapped around my wrist, blood seeping through the gauze wound around it and down my wrist. I look up now, my eyes meeting with the familiar hazel ones from before.
"What are you doing?", I finally ask, tugging my hand from his reach. He winces slightly as my hand drags across his own, retracting his quickly and furrowing his eyebrows at me.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing here?" His voice is hoarse, slipping out from his lips like sandpaper.
I look at him taken back, eyes wide as I cross my arms over my chest and try my hardest not to breathe in the overwhelming smell of metal that was coming from his figure.
"Excuse me?", I scoff, holding up my camera at him with a smug expression coming from my face. "I'm taking pictures"
"Well sweetheart, I didn't pay for a fucking personal photographer," He snatches the camera from my grip and examines it for a moment before slipping the storage card from its rightful place and dropping it to the floor.
"And I sure as hell didn't pay for a fucking cheerleader." He raises his foot slightly and stomps it down on the ground, destroying the card right in front of me.
"What the fuck", I gasp and reach down quickly, his foot gently pushing on my hand to stop me from reaching any further. I groan and stand up again, leaning down to grab his hand tightly in my own.
"What the hell", He hisses and attempts to pull his hand back, earning my other hand to grab ahold of it.
"Why did you curb-stomp my SD card, asshole." He laughs now, his shoulder raises into a mere shrug before he tears his hand from mine. He takes the small towel from around his neck and wipes beads of sweat from his forehead, his eyes locked on mine for a few moments before speaking,
"A girl like you shouldn't be at an illegal match like this- and certainly not taking fucking photographs while she does it."
I blink in response, watching his every move before he sighs and takes a step back to run his bruised hands through his hair,
"Look, I'm sorry I broke your shit. I just don't need you involved in this and being a witness to the brutal shit that goes on in here," He motions to the crowd of people that were chanting his name just a few doors over. I cross my arms over my chest again, narrowing my eyes at him,
"You just ruined my final for my photography class, hope it makes you feel any better", I bend down, scooping up the remains of my once full storage card and placing the remnants into my back pocket. He stares at me dumbfounded, looking between me and my camera before his lip is pulled in by his teeth,
"I'll make it up to you, just not tonight."
I scoff once more, raising a hand to flip him off before turning on my heel and making my way back the way we came. The crowd seemed to be growing louder by the second, with numerous people screaming that the cops were coming and I stopped dead in my tracks. The brunette's hand stops me once more, this time a gentle grip loosely encasing my own.
Pop Pop Pop
We both flinch now, his eyes darting behind me as the crowd begins screaming louder. From what I could gather, someone had shot the gun in the air.
"Don't go out that way," He pleads, his eyebrows relaxed on his face and the smell of blood only growing stronger with every step closer he takes.
"Just get me the hell out of here," I plead.
The brunette led me down the maze of a hallway, his hand hovering over my lower back as we sped walked together. My heart was beating out of my chest, ears still ringing loudly, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see him turning around every few moments to make sure no one was following us both.
He pushes through the heavy metal doors with a hard shoulder shove, motioning me to exit first. The air was cold, and I could hear the police sirens growing closer and closer. The man in front of me remained calm, almost as if he's gone through this every night now- which he probably does.
"Did you drive here?", He asks quickly, scanning the parking lot for any sign of a car that could've been mine.
I sigh softly, looking back at him with a deadpanned gaze. He groans in annoyance and grabs my upper arm quickly, jogging through the alleyway and towards his truck.
"You must be stupid if you think I'm getting in a car with a stranger," I halt in place, looking up at him with an emotionless expression.
"My name is Ashton, now get in the fucking truck before the cops arrest us both," He opens the passenger door of his truck harshly, letting go of my arm and jogging to his side. I slide into this passenger seat quickly, my feet clambering over the mountain of beer cans on the floor. If I had any time to spare, I'd bitch about the uncleanliness of the truck but Ashton climbing in after me and reversing out of the alleyway tore me from my thoughts.
"Holy shit, Ashton", I gasp and fumble with my seatbelt, clicking it in place and giving it a good tug as he swerves onto the main road. The sirens were only growing louder and I could see his bruised knuckles tightly gripped against the steering wheel, blood trickling down his arms and staining the cloth seats. His eyes focused on the road, not worrying about the flashing lights of blue and red that were now behind us.
"Ash-" I begin, my hands holding onto the handlebar above me with one hand while my other grabbed his forearm to steady myself as he weaved in and out of lanes.
"Stop", He said firmly, looking over at me in his passenger seat with a frightened look on my face.
And for the first time tonight- He smiles at me.
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afi-tangerine · 8 months
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just saw a tweet saying how much they loved ashtons long hair era and used these pictures
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as if these don’t exist
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youngxcalm · 8 days
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🥰
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