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#ashton irwin blurb
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.”
183 notes · View notes
ughkat · 7 months
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ur camera roll if ashton was ur boyfriend ❥
384 notes · View notes
souperbloom · 16 days
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the way things go. [A.I.]
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title from the song the way things go by beebadoobee
ex boyfriend!ash
part 1 of 2 | random little post breakup angst.
a/n: i’ve never written anything like this so i thought i’d give it a try— let me know what you think :) there will be a part 2 but im still unsure of what direction to take this in so if you have any suggestions feel free to drop them in my inbox!
no major cws, just a brief mention of drinking & vibes. ☻
WORDCOUNT: 3.5k
⋆⭒˚。⋆
You around?
Sent. 2:58am
An odd buzzing from beneath your pillow stirred you awake from the deepest sleep you’ve had in weeks. Your phone buzzed once and just like that, you were awake? Couldn’t be. It had to have been some sort of sixth sense.
Call me. I miss you.
Sent. 2:59am
The silk pillowcase cradled your cheek as the buzzing continued. Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.
Baby, please.
Sent. 2:59am
I miss you.
Sent. 2:59am
So much.
Sent. 3:00am
It wasn’t long before the incessant buzzing frustrated you to the point of reaching beneath your pillow and yanking your phone out from under it. The harsh light made your eyes water and burn, but the notifications on the screen made them ache even more.
ASHTON: 5 New Messages.
You’ve gotta be fucking kidding.
What was once a fluttering feeling in your chest, seeing his name sprawled across the screen, turned abruptly into agony. You didn’t think it would be so soon— him reaching out to you. It had been a month, almost to the day, since you and Ashton had called your three and a half year relationship quits. Things were serious enough to bring marriage into the question and suddenly, one random Tuesday night, it all came crashing down. He told you that it wasn’t you, that it was him, that it was the right person at the wrong time and all of the other painfully worn out cliches. To think that you even considered marrying him at all.
A crazy thought at three in the morning.
And even crazier when you thought about him texting you in the middle of the night. After a month of no contact.
have you been drinking?
Sent. 3:01 am
Your thumbs twiddle quickly and hit send, waiting for those three little deathly bubbles to pop up and confirm that no, you weren’t dreaming and yes, he was anxiously awaiting your reply.
ASHTON
Maybe. Maybe not.
Sent. 3:01am
His response makes you grumble; Ashton was absolutely insufferable— and even more so when inebriated. You didn’t want to deal with him right now, it was in your best interest to just ignore him and fight the thought of him right back to sleep.
But something inside of you wasn’t allowing this to be that easy.
go to bed.
Sent. 3:02am
ASHTON
Not until you’re in it.
Sent. 3:02am
that made no sense.
Sent. 3:02am
Why was it so difficult to put your phone down?
ASHTON
I don’t give a shit. I miss you.
Sent. 3:03am
You were far too tired to be entertaining his stupid desires at such an odd hour of the evening. The time was one thing, but the fact that he was drinking was an entirely new fish to fry. You knew that your actions had consequences, and those consequences were something you’d have to deal with in the morning.
stop texting me.
Sent. 3:04am
Maybe he’ll get the hint.
ASHTON
Come over?
Sent. 3:04am
Okay. Maybe not.
Your bottom lip had gone raw from the amount of biting you’d been doing to it recently, and it had yet to stop at all. It was a nervous habit you’d picked up after the breakup and you thought you were doing well at combating it by picking at your nail beds and twirling your hair— but now, these little ticks were coming out all at once.
You were a walking ball of nerves and haven’t been the same since that random Tuesday, almost a month ago.
no.
Sent. 3:05am
Look at you. Standing your ground. You were so proud of yourself.
ASHTON
Please?
Sent. 3:05am
fine.
Sent. 3:08am
Fuck.
The time it took for you to get yourself decent must’ve been some sort of world record. Because now, seemingly seconds later, you were in your car and hunched over your steering wheel. Taking deep breaths in as the cool leather pricked your balled up fists.
This fucking sucks.
You turned the key and the engine begrudgingly grumbled to a start. Even your car knew that this was a poor decision; sounding like it was about a five mile drive from completely giving up on you.
Lucky for you, Ashton’s house was only a mile away.
The dark winding road leading to Ashton’s driveway felt like an eternity. You were frigid at the thought of him sitting and waiting up for you, sitting on that deep mahogany leather couch with his head tossed back onto the cushions. His knee bobbing impatiently and the light of the TV making his face glow pale. A glass of whiskey, or whatever the fuck poison he picked nowadays, clutched in his hand and taking small sips until ice melted gradually and watered it down.
You hated how much you knew about him. How predictable he had become in your time being with him. You knew that whatever image your brain was conjuring up of him was probably true, down to the outfit he was wearing.
You didn’t bother texting him because you knew that the second his porch lights turned on, he’d be slouched against the doorframe waiting for you. As he always did. Your tires crunched against the gravel as you slowly pulled into his driveway; shaky hands and tired eyes working in tandem to park your car in the usual spot.
“Didn’t think you’d actually show up.”
The familiar voice pulls your gaze away from your slippers and just as expected, there he was.
His hair was a few inches longer, auburn and honeycomb waves colliding into a box-dyed mess. His roots were so much darker, after you had worked so hard on the touch ups and hours spent bent over the bathtub rinsing the bleach out to lighten his black dye job. All of that time was in vain.
There was an appropriate amount of stubble surrounding his cheeks, for the time you’d gone without seeing him. You were too busy admiring his face to notice that he was wearing the Keith Haring printed robe you had gifted him for Christmas.
You probably looked crazy.
“You asked me to come over,” you shrug, trying to make light of the situation.
“So… you came?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
The tension rising was palpable, despite the tasteful three feet of distance between your bodies, and the only thing you could think about now was the way his mossy eyes sparkled beneath the porch lights.
“Well,” he breaks the silence with a chuckle, “Don’t just stand there. Come inside.”
You don’t say anything else after stepping over the threshold of the house you’d spent almost four years living in. Everything was the same. And you’d imagined it as so. To any normal person, a month wasn’t a terribly long time. But the time after a breakup all seems to mesh into one long day, since stepping into his house for the final time to grab your things felt like it was yesterday.
The guitars still mounted to the wall and decorated art pieces that hung to and fro reminded you of all of the effort you’d spent making this house into a home.
“Is Calum here?” you ask about his best friend and roommate, trying to pay attention to anything else in the room but him.
“Nope. He’s out.”
“Cool.”
Ashton moves around the living room with ease, unperturbed by your presence as he glides over to the connected kitchen. “Want a drink?”
“No. Don’t plan on crashing here, if that’s what you were expecting.”
He lets out a wry chuckle at your attempt to be stern, “I wasn’t expecting anything. Just— trying to be a polite host.”
“Yeah well,” you sigh, flopping back onto that old leather couch, “You don’t have to act like I’m some stranger.”
“Stranger?” he quizzes, opening the door to his fridge as his disembodied voice echoes behind you, “What makes you think I’d treat you like a stranger?”
Your shoulders tense up at his soft words, Ashton rounds the corner back into the livingroom to join you on the couch. He hands you a glass of apple juice, and you take it.
“Thanks,” you murmur, the thought of him keeping a bottle of apple juice in the fridge for you sending a chill down your spine. Despite making fun of you for it, he always remembered that it was your favorite.
“So…” he begins, shifting on the couch to face your slouched body.
You glance over at his posture, and the familiarity of it all was making your head hurt. To think that the way someone chose to sit on a couch was causing you so much grief felt unnatural.
“...How have you been?”
“Fine. Just— living. I suppose that’s all I could really ask for.”
“Living, huh? Sounds fun. Better than dying. If you said you were dying I’d definitely be a little less excited about you showing up here. Walking corpses are not as cool as they are on TV.”
The way Ashton constantly spoke in tongues drove you up the wall. “What the fuck are you even saying?”
“Sorry, I’ve— been watching a lot of TV recently. Also I, uh— had a bit to drink.”
Yeah, no shit.
A few more moments of deafening silence pass and ultimately confuse you. You aren’t sure how silence could be something so loud but alas, whenever you looked at, heard, or even thought of Ashton since that one Tuesday night, the only thing you could hear was the sound of your own quickening heartbeat.
“Do you still have my cashmere sweater?” The thought pops into your mind randomly, as he takes a moment to admire you.
“I do. Did you want it back?”
That question pulls a dry chuckle out of you, “If I didn’t, I probably wouldn’t be asking for it.”
“Fair point. I know just where I left it, too— I’ll go get it.”
Ashton shifts to the edge of the couch to stand up, but stumbles back, due to whatever he had flowing in his system. He braces his ring-clad hands onto the leather and the metal adorning his knuckles tear down into it.
Glancing at those miscellaneous metal etchings and gemstones you’d gifted him makes you think about his infatuation with rings. And, his request for only eight of them.
Your mind flashes back to the anniversaries and milestones where he attempted to collect one for every finger. It could have been preference, or maybe he didn’t foresee enough milestones in which he’d acquire them—but you were never quite sure why he didn’t ask for ten.
He was weird in that way.
“You still wear your rings?” you ask, debating on biting your tongue after letting the question slip right out.
He stops in his tracks, as does your heart, “Of course I do. Why?”
“Dunno’,” you shrug, brushing your shoulder and letting your hand linger on your skin, “Just didn’t think you’d want to after everything.”
Ashton looks at you with intrigue; with purpose. He studies the hand of yours that had been left timidly resting on your forearm.
“Well, to ask you your own question; why wouldn’t I?”
His words hit you like a freight train and suddenly there’s a tightness in your chest that wasn’t there before. You were proud of yourself for being level headed— up until the moment you realized he was right; why wouldn’t he wear those rings?
Why wouldn’t you come over?
“Ashton?” The tightness in your chest was now spreading to your entire body, coating your limbs in this strange paralysis that always seemed to happen when you thought about him.
“Yeah?”
“I miss you, too.”
You don’t even get a moment to process how quickly you were straddling his lap, your crewneck riding up your back as his hands made an effort to explore you. The kiss was heated, sure, but you couldn’t tell if the resentment you felt towards him was meshing into your desires. Those soft little whimpers escaped his chest as you practically pinned him down onto the couch between your knees. You weren’t sure what came over you. Could’ve been his newly acquired taste for classical Hollywood cinema, or the fact that smelling his cologne felt like a breath of fresh air after a month spent locked in a tight little room.
“Ashton,” you mumble his name into his lips and they ricochet back onto yours.
“Oh, Y/N”, he hums, “How I’ve missed you, baby.”
Your tongues danced beneath the glowing of the silver screen, Casablanca being the most appropriate film to be on his television right now.
“I’ve–” your breath staggers, taking a moment to nip at his bottom lip, “I’ve missed you too. God fuckin’–”
The words you were meant to speak were entrapped by soft moans, as Ashton pulls you into his airy pajama pants. He holds you tightly, like he had never left.
“Do– do you–” He attempts to ask the question, the age-old question that had you rethinking your decision to come to his house in the first place.
“I don’t know…”
Your hand travels up to his hair and drags down to cup his cheek, the stubble slightly scratching at your palm and reminding yourself of the blisters that were left in the place of Ashton’s many, many attempts to teach you the drums. Two and a half years of consistent practice paid off.
“That’s okay,” he consoles, nuzzling his cheek into your hand, “We don’t have to do anything. We could just– lay here, y’know? Never minded it, still don’t.”
His answer surprises you. You nod and stutter, unable to form a coherent thought due to the warmth of his bare chest beneath his robe.
“Mmmh. You know what?— I change my mind.”
He chuckles, “Do you, now?”
“Yup. I want to. Gotta’ get whatever the fuck this is— out of my system.”
You couldn’t describe the way Ashton’s face morphed into that of a kicked puppy. The pain in your chest was blatantly obvious now, like a subtle pinprick every time the dim lights would catch the sparkle in his eyes.
“Out of your system?”
“I didn’t— I didn’t mean it like that,” you say; an oxymoron of sorts. Since the elephant in the room started stomping around and now, you were straddling him and tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear.
“I guess I can’t disagree with you. I’ve been missing you a lot but— I don’t know, I can’t really place what I’m feeling.”
Your lip tugs to the side, as does his. Twin looks of confusion in an effort to read each other’s faces. “Let’s just— pick up where we left off? Maybe it’ll help get your mind off the existential dread.”
“Existential dread, huh? Is that what this feeling is?” he asks, his hands running up and down your spine beneath your crewneck.
“Yeah, sure,” you swallow hard, harder than you’d intended and you choke on your words, “We can call it that.”
He whispers your name softly and the chills start running down your body. His voice was the one thing you couldn’t get over; no matter how many nights you’d spent staring at the ceiling in an effort to change that. You’d hear him calling out to you every time the wind blew and hearing him say it right in front of you felt like a slap in the goddamn face.
“Y/N, I’m sorry—”
“It’s a little too late for that now, don’t you think?”
You hated to be so morbid and dry but in the end, it was true. If he had wanted to give apologies where they were due, they should’ve been said the moment he called it quits.
“I figured it’s better late than never. You deserve an apology for— everything that went on.”
Your face turns cherry red, a sudden wash of anger flushing over your cheeks. You push yourself off of his chest with a force that you didn’t even know you were capable of. He jerks back, awe-stricken at the sudden change.
“Oh fuck you Ash. You’re so full of shit,” you mutter, fueled with sudden rage, “If you really wanted to apologize you’d have been at my doorstep a month ago. You don’t care about me. You only care because I’m right in front of you and looking at me hurts too much for you to ignore it.”
“You think I don’t care about you?…”
Ashton’s voice cracks and suddenly you were feeling awful for blowing up unprovoked. The notch in his forehead grows deeper as he studies your infuriated face with sincerity.
“Y/N, of course I fucking care about you. Are you kidding me? I care about you more than anything in this world.”
Another one of those pinpricks tugs at your heartstrings.
“Then why did you let me go?”
Without a moment’s notice or any sort of explanation, Ashton pulls you back into his chest and slots his lips against yours. You don’t fight it. In fact, you embrace it. Another frenzied kiss of daring tongues and roaming hands against the places that felt so familiar to the both of you.
Just as the kiss goes rogue and his lips sloppily traipse down to your jaw, you feel a small droplet roll down your cheek. One that didn’t belong to you.
A quiet sob is preceded by a sentence that rips your heart out of your chest.
“I never wanted to. I never wanted to let you go.”
“Ashton,” you murmur, feeling your eyes welling up just the same, “I—I didn’t know—”
He interrupts your thought with a string of kisses down your neck towards your chest. His hands roam with fervor, feeling you up as though you were the last thing he would ever be allowed or able to touch. You embraced his blistered hands and the way they knew every crease and divot in your body, how effortless he was at drawing you back in.
“I never knew how to get you in front of me to actually say the things on my mind but now that I have you I just— I couldn’t fight the pain in my chest when I looked into your eyes for the first time.” His rambling was trailing off into muffled sniffling and staccato phrasing; it was causing you physical pain to hear him this way.
“I just assumed you hated me. I thought you never wanted to see me again, Ash. Why didn’t you say this sooner?”
“What? No. No, I don’t hate you,” he defends, still solemn, “I just— didn’t know how to reach out. It took me a lot to swallow my pride and send you that text, Y/N… I’ve never been good at communicating.”
“Tell me about it,” you break the tension with a lighthearted hand, but remnants of your feelings for him lingered above your head like a storm cloud.
“But my actions have consequences, I’ve learned… I’d drive past your house and it’d take everything in me not to bang on your front door and drop down to my knees. Beg you to forgive me for everything I put you through… Everything I do reminds me of you in some way and— it was hard to even think about the two of us existing in the same universe without the other by our sides. It just, it didn’t feel natural—”
You felt sorrowful enough to place a kiss on his cheek as he rambled on, masking tears of your own and letting them drip down his cheek.
“— And when you told me ‘no’ after I’d asked you on a whim to come here, I thought it was over. My entire life flashed before my eyes and you weren’t in it and it just— it fucking killed me.”
“But Ashton, I’m here,” you say, watching his face deconstruct into more of a manic expression as he digressed, “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know you’re here. You’re here now and— I know you always told me to live in the moment, but fuck. There’s so much left to say.”
You cup his jaw and tilt his gaze back into yours, after it had wandered behind your head as it always seemed to do.
“I’m sure there’s a lot to say but Ashton, you’ve made up your mind. That’s just… the way things go.”
Another tear falls rogue from his malachite eyes and your thumb is there to catch it. His gaze is gut-wrenching, plucking at every single one of your impulses and all of the progress you’ve made in getting over him.
“Is it too late to change that?”
Your mind starts reeling. The words you’d never thought you’d hear coming from his mouth were finally out in the open and there was no sign of him taking them back. The initial issue was his lack of communication but fuck, you didn’t know it would come back to bite you so soon.
You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about sending him a simple text to meet for coffee in hopes to ‘change his mind’, but it seemed as though he was thinking about it just as much as you were. There was no point in fighting it anymore. The two of you were meant for each other. If a month of no contact was all it took for him to realize how much he needed you…
…Then maybe that random Tuesday night wasn’t the worst thing after all.
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saucymalum · 11 months
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Who fell first, and who fell harder 5SOS
Luke: You fell first, he fell harder.
Calum: You fell first and harder
Ashton: You fell first, he fell harder
Michael: He fell first and harder.
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writersdare · 1 year
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Give Me Attention | Ashton Irwin
Pairing: Ashton Irwin x Reader (she/her)
Summary: Ashton and Y/N had been friends for a while. However, everything changed once she found out an unpleasant secret he thought to hide from her.
Warning: angsty, an intimate moment, a bit of cursing and mentioning of alcohol
Word Count: 2 947
Requested: yes
Author’s Note: This one was actually hard! I've been working on this one for quite a bit, and really hope you'll like the story. I'm still not sure about the whole concept, but I like to try new ideas, so I don't regret choosing this path. If you watched a film "Matthias & Maxime", you'll maybe recognise one scene from there. Besides phrases from the requested prompt list I also used another, quite a known one. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts! Thank you for your patience on this one ♡
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Friday was supposed to be for parties or at least for something fun. However, Y/N had her own meaning of fun, and Ashton did not exactly like it.
“You do realise I’m not a plumber?” the guy was lying on a floor, head inside a kitchen counter, where pipes of a sink were. 
“I believe in you,” Y/N smiled, changing a wet towel to a dry one. “Besides, you’re almost done, don’t complain,” she giggled and stepped back, taking a moment to appreciate Ashton’s naked back. “You’re so sweaty.”
“Oh yeah?” he mumbled, puffing loudly, while he was trying to screw the pipe. “Next time you’ll clean it yourself and I’ll look at you.”
Y/N bit her bottom lip, but couldn’t hold a giggle again. The guy was slightly mad and salty, she knew, though, he was just tired. It was a late evening, and Ashton was her lifesaver, as no one agreed to drive at such time and fix the pipe. It wasn’t even a big deal, it just clogged up! Well, perhaps, “just” was a wrong word, as Ash had a hell of a night. A drummer of one of the most popular bands in the world was cleaning a freaking sink…
“You’re the best, Ash,” Y/N said, smiling, and filled a kettle with water before heating it on a stove.
“Hell yeah, I am,” Ash chuckled and carefully stood up, being on all fours at first, as he was afraid to hit his head. That would be a dramatic end of the night, truly. “It should work now,” he sighed and turned on a faucet. The water flowed down easily and finally didn’t end up on the floor. 
“Thank you so much! Really! I’d hug you, but—“
“I’m sweaty, yeah, I got it,” Ash smirked and took his own white shirt on a chair to wipe his body a bit. “I’m gonna take a shower, alright? You better get me something stronger than tea,” he warned, seeing two cups on a table.
“Alright,” the girl chuckled and stood up to check if she had something on a shelf.  
Y/N and Ashton knew each other for a while. In fact, she was a good friend of all four guys from the band. Ash lived closer to her place, so it was rather natural to spend evenings together occasionally. 
Rather quickly the girl reconciled with her romantic feelings towards Ashton. They were just there, for him, it was stupid to deny. However, Ash always treated her like a friend, and Y/N didn’t even dare to make a step or give a little hint. It wasn’t like she suffered from low self-esteem; no, that was in the past. The girl just preferred to call herself a realist. Ashton and Y/N were as if from different worlds. His working schedule was a total mess, his relationships were, maybe, even crazier. Y/N knew if something more had ever happened to them, she could not stand unseriousness. The feelings were too strong, and they’d grow stronger, if they were a thing. It was just smarter to have Ash as a friend to avoid a risk of loosing him eventually.
“Feeling better?” she smiled, when Ashton came back to the kitchen. He wasn’t wearing a t-shirt, and drops of water were still noticeable on his chest. “How is this disease called? When a person leaves a shower without a proper use of a towel?” Y/N smirked, trying not to stare at Ash too much.
“Oh, c’mon, are you shy?” the musician chuckled, and she hated, when he was getting a bit spicy with her.
Y/N only grinned and gave Ashton a glass of Martini, when he set down next to her.
“Well-deserved,” the girl joked.
“Thank you. And yes, I’m feeling better. But do you know how I’d feel even better? If you didn’t call me in the middle of the night to fix your pipe.”
Y/N rolled the eyes, and the guy giggled, quickly leaving a kiss on the cheek. Ash smelled like her showering gel; slight alcohol notes hit the nose, too.
“I’m only joking. You know you can call me any time,” he smiled.
“It’s not that late anyway,” Y/N mumbled, but grinned back. They enjoyed teasing each other, no one was offended there. However, when Ashton’s phone ringed, the girl got slightly upset. Who could call him at twelve p.m.?
“Oh, sorry, I gotta take this,” Ash stood up. “It’s Cassy, I’ll be in a minute.”
“Cassy? Not sure if I know who it is.”
“My girlfriend,” the guy said it so easily as if he just announced the weather forecast for tomorrow. “Oh, shit, I forgot! I met her in a bar a week ago, didn’t I tell you? I’ll be back,” Ash rushed up to the living room.
Y/N’s heart dropped, and a smile was wiped from her face completely. A girlfriend then? Who he met just a week ago? That was new. At that moment the girl started to feel uncomfortable for asking him to come over to help. Perhaps, she wasn’t allowed to do so any longer, as he was in damn relationship. And what kind of friends they were, if Ashton didn’t even tell her such news?
“Sorry,” Ash smiled, coming back to the kitchen quite quickly. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” Y/N smiled back, making a sip from her glass. “Listen, I didn’t know you were dating someone, I’m sorry I called you–“
“What? No-no, what are you talking about?” he outraged softly. “I told you, you can call whenever you need me.”
“I don’t think it’s right anymore, you have a girlfriend, Ash, you shouldn’t be at my place,” she shook a head, struggling to hide how upset she was. Well, the girl tried, but all her strength was as if drained by the recent news.
“Y/N, we are friends,” Ashton stared at her eyes with his grass green. The phrase was so simple, and yet it hurt so much. The truth was painful. “So, it doesn’t matter. I still can come over and can stay at your place tonight,” he smiled cheerfully, but the girl shook a head again.
“No, I think you should spend the night at your place. It’s not that far from here anyway,” the girl whispered and emptied her glass.
Maybe she wasn’t right. Maybe it was stupid to behave like that and demand Ashton to come back to his place. Y/N wasn’t exactly sad he got a girlfriend – after all, that happened before, too – she was just upset Ash didn’t tell her right away. It seemed he didn’t even plan to. If not the call, who knew for how long the girl would stay oblivious? 
"You can’t skip my birthday party, Y/N," Calum mumbled, sitting on a couch in a music studio the other day. Y/N was sitting next to him, resting a head on a back of the couch. When the girl confessed that she probably wouldn’t be able to attend the party, Cal didn’t even look surprised – it was just out of discussion, she was coming. So, the musician kept his eyes on a phone screen, trying to complete a level in some silly game. "What’s the matter anyway? You don’t want to get me a present, do you?" he chuckled, joking. 
"It’s not that," Y/N sighed and turned her head towards the friend. Ashton wasn’t in the studio that day, and being honest, it was for the best, as their relationship wasn’t great since the guy announced he had a girlfriend. They didn’t talk about it, pretended they were fine, but hung out less – never alone, only with the rest of the band. It was hard to tell what was in Ashton’s mind, and why he just couldn’t tell the truth from the beginning. It had been three weeks, and they still didn’t figure it out. Y/N felt extremely stupid, she needed to let the things go, it wasn’t a big deal anyway. She just couldn’t understand why it still bothered her so much. And was his new girlfriend that special that he didn’t want to introduce to her? It was ridiculous.
"What is it then?" Calum stayed calm, his voice sounded even slightly indifferent, however, Y/N knew he cared. 
The girl hesitated, feeling rather unsure if she needed to raise that topic. Although she was the one who started it, saying she wouldn’t be at Calum’s party, so perhaps, there was no way out.
"Is Ashton’s girlfriend gonna be there?"
"Why would she be there?" Cal finally put the phone away. He was quite amused by the question.
"Well, cause she’s his girlfriend," Y/N chuckled, finding his answer quite annoying.
Calum turned his full body towards the girl and stared at her.
"Wait… He didn’t tell you? They have a contract, it’s a PR relationship."
"What?…" Y/N gasped. When did they end up in that stage of their friendship where Ash stopped telling her anything about his life? The girl felt ashamed. She certainly didn’t enjoy looking stupid in front of Cal, however, the guy knew much more than both of his delusional friends did. 
After being angry for a while, Y/N came to conclusion that she needed to stop thinking about Ashton that much. Clearly, he didn’t care about her or their friendship anymore, so why should she? It all felt quite childish, but the girl was sure that the main kid in their situation was Ash. Even when it was her, who ended up dancing with different guys up all night at Calum’s birthday party, ignoring the friend completely.
"She drives me insane," he growled, staring at Y/N, who was cuddling a random dude and moving her hips to the tempo of music. How wasn’t she still tired?
"To be fair, you did lie about your relationship," Calum chuckled, glancing at the mutual friend and making a sip from his glass.
"I had my reasons," Ash mumbled annoyingly, not being able to take the eyes off her even for a slight second.
"And she has her own," Michael commented, resting a hand on the friend’s shoulder. However, Ash shook it off rashly and hurried up to approach Y/N, when noticed the "dude’s" palm going down her waist.
"Don’t do anything stupid!" Luke begged, but Ashton didn’t hear him.
"Hey, Y/N, I need to talk to you," his whole body was tense. The musician wasn’t looking at the guy and was only staring at Y/N’s eyes.
"We kinda busy, man," the stranger made a step forward, and Ashton placed the hand on his chest quickly, pushing the cause of his bad mood aside. Ash grabbed Y/N’s wrist gently, but persistently, and pulled her from one room to another, where no one could bother them. 
Calum moved to that apartment just recently, so some places were still on renovation, just like the guest room they appeared in. It was almost empty except for few old closets and kitchen counters, which, apparently, were left by the previous owners. It smelled like dust and damp, nothing pleasant. 
"What the hell?" Y/N outraged, once Ashton shut the door behind them. "I was having a good time!"
"Yeah? Well, I had a shitty time!" the guy snapped at her and touched his face with a palm, standing in front of Y/N. "Shit, I… What the hell is going on, really? You’re ignoring me, hanging out with some pricks instead!"
"You don’t answer my questions, why should I answer yours?!" 
"I got jealous, alright?!" Ash spilled out before thinking, and his voice became softer immediately. "And I know, I’m not allowed to be jealous, you aren’t even mine."
The phrase was absurd to Y/N. Wasn’t he the one who had a girlfriend? It didn’t already matter if it was a fake one. The girl set on a counter that was covered with some plastic tape, and shook her head.
"I gave you space, so you could enjoy your relationship, which, by the way, you didn’t even tell me about."
"Fuck," Ashton sighed heavily and touched both Y/N’s hands. "I’m sorry, alright? I just… didn’t want to tell you. Don’t you remember how you reacted that night? You didn’t even allow me to stay at your place!"
"I didn’t allow you, because you hid from me the fact you got a girlfriend at first place!" she outraged and broke the touch. "I don’t care if you have a girlfriend or not, if it’s PR or not, I just want you to be honest with me!"
"Do you? Are you really so indifferent about me having a girlfriend?" unlike Y/N’s, Ashton’s voice was calm.
The girl shoved him in the shoulder and made an attempt to jump off the counter, but her legs happened to be pressed against Ashton’s.
"Answer me," he demanded and touched her palm again.
"Yes, I don’t care," Y/N replied coldly, watching him bending down and leaving small kisses on her fingers. It became hot all of a sudden, and a heart started its race away from the feelings. It was too late to run, though. 
"You’re lying to me," Ash took her second hand and left the kisses on the fingers again.
"I learnt from the best," the girl smirked, but the corners of the lips twitched, when the musician placed his palm on her knee.
"I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t want to upset you. Do you think I’m so happy about having this fake relationship?" the green eyes pierced hers, while the hand moved from the knee up. He had no shame. 
"I wasn’t upset."
"Stop lying to me," he whispered and brought his face close to hers.
"What are you doing?" the girl didn’t breathe. Y/N also wanted to speak less, being scared to gasp accidentally due to everything what she was experiencing at that moment.
"Proving that you’re wrong," his lips almost touched hers, and the hand was under the skirt, when the girl gathered the remnants of self-control and placed a palm on his lips. 
"Fake one or not, but you have a girlfriend. And these lips that… I maybe dreamt about at nights are kissing someone else," Y/N whispered, looking at her own hand. "I’m not doing this," she looked up at Ash. His pupils were dilated by all the emotions that were rushing through his veins. He wanted nothing but her, to hold Y/N in his arms and to kiss her lips, not… someone else’s.
"I’m sorry," Ashton whispered. "I signed the contract. You know how important the job is for me," his voice was trembling a little, as if he wasn’t sure about his own words.
"No one can force you to do that. Others don’t do it," Y/N was speaking the truth. "And I’m not asking you to cancel the contract because of me. You know I’m not like that," she smirked and took away the hand from his lips, once Ashton stepped back. "Even when I found out you had a girlfriend, you didn’t tell the whole truth. Why?"
Ash smirked and shook his head, looking away.
"It’s stupid."
"The whole situation is stupid, Ashton," Y/N chuckled coldly and jumped off the counter. "So tell me. Why didn’t you tell me it was all fake from the beginning?" she was looking at his eyes, but the guy didn’t look back.
"I wanted to see your reaction."
"Are you satisfied?"
"Y/N…"
"You’re just unbelievable," the girl rolled the eyes and headed to leave the room, but Ash caught her by the waist. "Let me go. I really don’t want to see you now," she tried to hold back the tears.
"Like it or not, I am not leaving you. If you want to go, I’ll go with you," he touched her chin, so Y/N could glance at his eyes. "I know I fucked up. But we’ve been friends for a while, Y/N. And I needed to know…"
"You could just ask me," the girl interrupted. "Do you really think I’d say I didn’t like you?"
Ash laughed shortly and turned his head away.
"What’s so funny?" she outraged.
"What’s funny?" Ash asked and returned his gaze back at Y/N. "I’ve been making hints here and there, and you never reacted!"
"Wait… You’ve been flirting with me?"
"For the past year, but thanks for noticing," Ashton shook his head. "You’re so annoying."
"Well, it’s only your fault it wasn’t clear," Y/N allowed herself a small smile.
"Oh, it’s my fault?!"
"Yes," she giggled.
"Come here," Ash chuckled and began to tickle her sides. "My fault then, huh?"
"Stop!" the girl laughed.
The musician smiled and pressed her head against a shoulder, then hugged Y/N tight.
"I’m sorry, Y/N. I know it was stupid. But… Is there a chance that you’re not too mad at me, and we can go on a date any time soon? I’ll cancel the contract…"
"I’ll think about it."
"You’ll think?!"
The laughter rang out behind the door of the old guest room again. Ashton was not going to let her leave his arms that night, although Y/N wasn’t planning to. They both knew that the hardest part was just ahead, but maybe they could go through it together. After all, there was a chance that the girl was simply mistaken, and they didn’t need to lose each other. To take the risk and actually be together was worth it all. 
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taglist: @dgrangaa, @gracieboogirl
– gif and photo aren’t mine and belong to the rightful owner – 
© writersdare | all rights reserved
All stories are original and written by me. Do not copy, trace and post anywhere without permission and credit. The stories are fictional, they do not correspond to reality and written just for fun ♡
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ashtonirwinwhore · 7 months
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bro I swear I’ve read every Ashton Irwin story on this app and I am DEPRIVED
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👉👈 Would you be up to do a small blurb with the topic 'post-tour reunion' using the phrase "look at me".
The genre is totally up to you. 😊
♾️❤
We shall close(?) the year with an absolutely filthy Ashton piece, don’t you think so? 😜 I had the general idea for this fic, but today I was listening to Take Me To Church and all sane thoughts went down the drain.
masterlist. | want to be added to my taglist? | Christmas Blurb Fest 2022 / I want a blurb too!
worship. [a post-tour reunion blurb]
warnings: oral sex (fem receiving). dom(ish)!Ashton. mutual teasing. the overuse of the words fuck and fucking. sex in an established relationship. some deeply intimate and filthy moments between those two.
word count: 1024
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“Look at me.”
You moaned at the words, back arching before sagging back against the mirror, eyes slowly opening as you finally looked at your boyfriend.
Ashton was down on his knees in front of you, lips pressing messy kisses to your inner thighs, so close to where you needed him the most, where you craved his sinful mouth as he worked you towards your ecstasy.
“Good girl,” his voice was low and raspy, tongue licking at the apex of your thigh before moving lower, running it between your pussy lips. “Good fucking girl.”
He mumbled his praise on your skin, words muffled as his tongue lapped your clit, circling it with the tip to drive you crazy. Your thighs shook at the pleasure, involuntarily closing around Ashton’s head, your fingers diving into his soft, unruly curls to keep him there and push him away at the same time. He moaned as you tugged on his hair, arms curling around your legs to push them up onto the counter, spreading you out like a feast he’s been hungry for for months.
You didn’t expect him to show up tonight, you thought he might be exhausted now that tour has ended, but when you sent him a goodnight text he was already knocking on your door, bags kicked into your apartment as he picked you up, kissing you senseless. His beanie and glasses soon landed on the couch while you tried to tug off his jacket, desperate to feel his skin on yours after the months spent apart.
The next thing you remembered was Ashton stumbling into the bathroom with you, putting you up on the counter as he kicked off his shoes and pulled off his shirt, dropping to his knees, long fingers curling into the waist of your sleep shorts. Now those were all lying in a heap on the bathroom floor while Ashton worshipped your pussy with his lips and tongue, thumb teasingly slipping into your entrance, a promise of what the night still held for you.
“Ash– fuck!” your voice turned high-pitched, your feet almost slipping off the edge of the counter as your orgasm shook you, fingers pulling on his curly mullet to hold onto something. Ashton growled at your noises, hands holding onto your ankles to keep you in place as his tongue picked up the pace, all but burying his face into you as he worked you through your climax.
“Sensitive…” you finally sighed, falling back against the cool surface of the mirror as you softly pushed him away. Ashton’s grip on you loosened before pulling back, sitting back on his legs on the floor, panting as he looked up at you.
He looked wrecked. His hair was dishevelled, pupils wide and dark, his cheeks and lips red from how hot he felt and how he ate you out, and if that wasn’t enough, his chin was covered in your arousal. Ashton ran his thumb over his chin, collecting your wetness and licking off your juices while keeping eye-contact, smacking his lips at the taste. You needed to moan at how filthy he looked, and he was on his feet in a second, pulling you to his sweaty chest, tongue licking into your mouth as he kissed you.
“Fucking missed you, Y/N,” his hands grabbed into your ass cheeks, hips pushing forward to rub his hard cock trapped in his jeans against your sensitive flesh.
“Missed you too, so much,” you sucked the soft skin of his neck, wanting to leave a mark now that tour was over, your hands slipping between your bodies and fumbling with his zipper. “Need you to fuck me. It’s been too long.”
“Too fucking long,” Ash agreed, his words turning into a groan as your hand wrapped around his dick, already stroking him up and down. “Yeah, fuck, just like that.”
Hot puffs of air tickled your skin where he buried his face in your neck, hips thrusting forward as he fucked into your fist, soft whines leaving Ashton’s throat whenever you rubbed over the sensitive spot just under the tip of his cock. His fingers trailed down your stomach and between your legs, probing your hole and thumbing at your clit, both of you trying to edge the other just a little more before you couldn’t take the teasing any more.
It was Ashton who lost his patience first, pushing your hand away from his cock before grabbing it himself, teasing the tip between your folds, slowly nudging it inside before he buried his whole length into you with one smooth thrust. You sighed against his ear with a little pleasure filled noise, arms curling around his waist to keep him close, fingers digging into the dimples on his back. He pulled you as close as possible, softly playing with your hair as his nose skimmed over your cheek, lips leaving kisses on your temple and your eyebrow, the corner of your eye and bow of your upper lip, his tongue pushing against yours as he finally kissed you.
“My fucking goddess,” his fingers grabbed your thighs as he pulled them around his waist, your ankles locked behind his back. “I missed your beautiful body. I missed fucking you.”
“Please, Ash, move!” you knew you were begging him, but you didn’t care anymore – you just needed your boyfriend and to feel him everywhere. “Just… fuck me good.”
His dick twitched at your words, and your pussy clenched around him in return, both of your bodies on edge, craving each other like there was no tomorrow, like the world would end if you didn’t have each other right then and now. You swallowed hard as his thumb softly brushed over your throat, tipping your chin up, lips plush against yours as he kissed you tenderly, mumbling on your skin.
“Look at me,” he repeated, voice husky and slightly trembling, and you opened your eyes just as he pulled his hips back and fucked his cock into you again, eyes dark and full of lust. “And don’t you dare look away until the only thing you can say or think is my name.”
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@mymindwide @fuckyeah5sostakemehome @suchalonelysunflower @talkfastromance4 @ashtonsunflower @in-superbloom @wiiildflowerrr @lovelywordsblog @heyitskelseaj
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Hi there...I understand you're taking requests 👀. Could I please get an Ashton Irwin x reader friends to lovers? Maybe he confesses his feelings to reader who feels the same but doesn't think they should be together because he has to go on tour (distance). But they end up together with some smut. I hope you can write this one, if not I understand. Thanks so much 😊
Hi, thanks for dropping a request. I hope you enjoy it doesn't get steamy, if I'm honest. I hope that's okay. If it's a problem, please let me know!
Requests are open briefly until the 24th. Any NSFW content (smut, etc) must be requested off anon to ensure no minors (those 17 and below) are requesting the content.
Feel free to look through my masterlist for more. You can submit a request through my asks.
________________________________
It’s a tradition, one that you’d personally be damned in trying to pinpoint when it had grown into such. But lack of clarity on its inception doesn’t undermine the tradition that brings you here, two nights before the tour sitting across from Ashton. He’s giggling at his own story, napkin clutched into one of his hands. Your cheeks hurt from how much you’ve been smiling and laughing at it as well. You and Ashton are always here two nights before any tour with dinner. Whether he cooks, or you cook, or you eat out--it doesn’t matter. The two of you make sure to set time aside for each other regardless. 
“I’m so serious,” Ashton giggles. “Guy straight up offered fifty bucks for the t-shirt I was literally wearing. Right off my back.”
“The real question,” you start, setting your bottle down after your sip, “is did you actually give this rando your shirt off your back for fifty bucks?”
Ashton’s smile changes, the bright honey curve of his lips morphs into something softer and more mischievous. “I got a good lunch afterwards though.”
“Ashton!” you scold, tufts of laughter bubbling from your chest. You know the possibility always exists with Ashton. It would be hard to imagine that he wouldn’t do something just for the story of it. 
“I didn’t take the cash! But he treated me to lunch, since I did sort of give him the shirt off my back.”
“You didn’t sort of do anything,” you huff, finishing off the last pieces of your food. Ashton’s plate sits with just another bite or two of the pasta. Somehow the food’s gone faster than you two have even calculated for, but that won’t stop you. With the settling evening, Ashton’s backyard is a comfortable solace, a nice place to rest for a little. 
“Guilty as charged,” Ashton returns. He scrapes up the last of his food as the conversation lulls for a moment. He watches though, the way you stare up and behind him, like your mind’s taken you to places behind the court of his house. “But how’s work? For you?” 
You’d asked Ashton how his life was going and it sent him spiraling. He can go a mile a minute but he’s never far from always checking in on you. You shrug at Ashton’s question. Your life has fallen a little mundane though your work is anything but. 
You’d fallen into Ashton’s world when he frequented the record shop you worked out in the last year of your master’s program. You needed the cash on the side. Though the days were long between school, work, and homework, you found a little slice of quiet in that shop. It was a local gem, hidden in the debris of a crumbling shopping center. But locals knew the record shop well and would take the hike to unearth the treasure. 
Ashton was one of those locals. He spotted you as you placed prices on new arrivals and asked if anything specific came in worth looking for. You shrugged in response, but lifted out some limited edition vinyls with a yawn. You’re not sure what joke you made specifically, but it was enough. Ashton laughed like his life depended on it and more and more he came into the shop. You two exchanged names, then numbers, growing closer and closer as time passed. In just a year, you could tell that Ashton was going to be someone important in your life. You’d never imagine the scale, and still can’t. But you told yourself even if Ashton was there for a season it would be spring and bring forth all sorts of new life. 
Now, you’re four and half years into your friendship and it still grows and grows. You’ve left the record shop, settling into talent management and running in leagues adjacent to Ashton’s. It’s not the most glamorous job on the planet, but it pays the bills. The only downside to the field is that drama from others becomes your drama just by association. You have to get in the dirt sometimes as much as you definitely didn’t want to. And Ashton knows how much you dislike some of the aspects of your job. 
“Is that a shrug that means same old, same old? Or is that a shrug that means big shit?” Ashton questions. “I’d hazard a guess closer to the latter.”
“You win another year of friendship,” you laugh, finally focusing your gaze back on Ashton. His honey eyes are melting with concern as he gazes up at you. It makes your stomach flutter and you hate the feeling. Hate that the two of you were always dancing. 
“I wasn’t worried for a second about that. You’re stuck with me. It’s in the contract.”
“I signed no such thing,” you tease. “I need to see that one.”
“It’s written in invisible ink,” Ashton snorts. “But seriously, what’s wrong? Do you want to talk about it?”
“It’s just a mess.” You’re not supposed to get into specifics, but it’s never once stopped you when it came to Ashton. “It’s sensitive information really and not something I want to spread around even if it’s to safe ears.”
Ashton nods. “I’m sure you see and hear a lot of shit.” He knows you’re working specifically with someone up and coming. They’re young and if Ashton knows anything from his younger years, it’s that trouble comes with freedom and excitement. Some mistakes though just need to be learned the hard way. So Ashton assumes it’s something big for you to even keep it quiet. 
“Too much shit. We’re talking with lawyers,” you divulge. 
Ashton whistles. He’s no stranger to lawyers but he knows that when they get into the mix it gets messy fast. But they aren’t there for no reason, no little reason that is. “Fuck. Is this like…criminal?”
You shake your head. “It’s technically a civil matter but it could easily get criminal with my client’s hothead.”
“You’ve mentioned that before,” Ashton comments. Once before the two of you were catching up over lunch and your phone rang. Not the first time Ashton’s been inside a police station but it is the first time he’s been in one where he thought a crime might happen right next to an officer. To say he thought you could spit fire that day is not eloquent enough for your rage. “Well, I hope it doesn't get criminal. I know it’s gotta be a nightmare for you though. You’ve only been working with them for what? 6 months?”
“Eight,” you correct, “but it’s not long enough to be dealing with lawyers on a first name basis.”
Ashton reclines into his seat, arms folded over his chest. You rest your cheek against the flat of your knuckles, elbows resting on the table. Though you’re smiling, Ashton knows just how unamused you are at the situation. “How long have you been dealing with this situation?”
“Two months? Maybe a little less, but like we’re about to get the two month mark.”
“God damn.” 
You can only nod, a hum leaving your throat. “Yeah, but that’s boring and a buzzkill.” 
Ashton doesn’t miss the way you spin the bottle of alcohol free beer in a circle. He laughs but nods. “Fine, fine. Want another?”
“No, no, I’m good. You excited for this tour?” Ashton hadn’t talked it about in the same way he had the others. He adored what he was doing. He spoke passionately about the tour. But you were fuzzy on some details. Normally, he was brimming with every twist and turn the tour had. He’d trip over himself to tell you. You hate to think it was somehow a sign--that maybe Ashton’s retracting. 
Ashton’s nod is fast and hard. You watch him, eyes dropping from you to the green glass bottle in his hands. “I’m very excited. But I don’t want to spoil it,” he offers. It’s soft and you think that the words are somehow going to crumble onto his lap. 
“What do you mean spoil it?” you question. You don’t want to start pointing fingers and claiming that he’s not telling you things like before. You don’t want Ashton to go onto the defense. 
“I-it’s so silly,” he laughs. 
“No, I’m sure it’s not silly,” you offer. 
“But it is. I just-I kind of want you just to see it without me telling you anything about it beforehand. I know I normally tell you everything but this time I just want this to be a surprise.”
“Want me to go in blind, Irwin? Trying to give me a heart attack? I’m supposed to have insider knowledge, you know?”
He smiles again. For that, you’re grateful. “No, you do. I’m sure you have more than enough insider knowledge. I just--” His words fall short. He loves telling you everything. God, Ashton loves sharing his world with you. It makes him smile to see you smile. He wants to be there, when he can be, for you. When he can’t be, he wants to know that he’s still one of the first people you call even through the distance. And he does know it. When you got offered a position with the management company, you called Ashton mere minutes after the email came through. When Ashton nailed a drumline, he’d ensure you got to hear the initial take or two. 
But there’s something different about this--he wants to watch you when everything comes unraveled. It’s unlike anything else they’ve done. He wants the show to keep some of its magic. That and he wants to keep an excuse to see you again. You visit during the hometown shown normally and you still plan to this time. But he’s hoping to convince you to visit at least one other show too. Because no two shows are exactly alike. 
“Are you sure you can only make it to the LA show?” Ashton questions, finally looking up at you. 
You pause, nails picking at the label and the label scrunches just a little with your work. “I might be in Dallas too.”
“Really? You mean that, no bullshit?”
You shrug, your own lips failing to hold back your smile. Ashton catches on though and pushes up in his seat. His plate scratches over the top of the table as his forearms move it to the side. Your skin warms. It’s not embarrassment, it’s not even fear or shyness. You just feel alive in a way that only Ashton seems to make possible. You hold up your hands to slow his roll before it’s begun. “I’m supposed to be working the night before but I extended my stay by a couple days.”
“I’ll take it. I’ll take it easily.” Ashton reaches for your hands. Your palms are softer to the touch and it’s not lost on Ashton how the hairs on his arm stand up at your touch--electric in ways that he’s sure he can’t be alone in. When he looks up through his lashes, your gaze is dropped down to your intertwined fingers. Your fingers stroke gently over the top of his hands, over his knuckles. 
“You’re such a sap,” you tease softly. 
“I’ll have you know that I don’t care,” Ashton hums. His bones are melting at your touch. 
“You all packed up yet?” Ashton’s not necessarily a last minute packer, but he does occasionally cut it down to the wire. More than one of your pre-tour dinners has ended with Ashton needing to pack up his suitcase. It almost feels like it wouldn’t be a tradition without that fact. 
Ashton shakes his head, tracing the veins on the top of your hands now. It’s a dance, your hands trading who leads and who waits. “Stylist got the show outfits last week. Everything else is sitting around the suitcase waiting for your magic touch.”
“Oh, c’mon,” you laugh. “You taught me how to pack!”
“And I must say I may be one heck of a teacher, but I swear I almost miss something without you.” He pouts at you, lower lip rolling out. 
You roll your eyes but tap at Ashton’s forearms. “You clean up the dishes and get me another beer and I’ll get started.” You’d cooked over at Ashton’s place. Your apartment doesn't have the appropriate kitchen space and you hate how cramped it can feel, so Ashton offered up his place. 
Ashton squeezes at your forearms in response, “Thank you. Dishes will be squeaky clean.” 
It’s all the two of you need before you push away from the table, plates and bottles in hand, and carry on back inside of the house. The floors are cool against your feet and the house echoes in a way that lets you know all is silent. Ashton most often keeps music playing, saying it makes the place feel lived in. You’re not sure how it can’t feel lived in. Ashton’s couch is covered in blankets, walls lined with plaques and photographs. The living room is a bit echoey as it opens up into the kitchen more directly, but there’s plenty of life, if anyone was to ask you.
You set your dishes on the counter next to the sink, listening to the click of the ceramic meeting the marble. “One of these days you’re going to have to pack yourself,” you tease. 
Ashton closes the door to the fridge with his hip, holding two bottles in hand. “Don’t you dare say that. You’ll always be my pack checker.” He wants to say more, wants to say the reason you’ll always be there is because you’ll be with him. Forever might be a scary concept, but he wants to see what that could look like with you. Though if Ashton puts anything more than friends out there and you shoot him down, it’ll shatter him. 
He’d recover, he knows. But it’s selfish. He’d rather not have to lose you or hurt himself like that. 
“Hmm, my tax might get higher,” you tease, sliding the bottle opener off the counter. 
“I’d pay it in a heartbeat,” Ashton huffs. And as the two of you get closer, you reaching for the bottle, Ashton wishes he’d just be more direct. He really ought too. He wants to tell you but also worries that it might break everything. 
You work loose the top to both bottles. “That’s a lot of game, Irwin. Let’s see if you can back it up.” 
“Promise, I can.”
Only a hum leaves your throat before your sip pauses you. “I’ll be upstairs packing your suitcase.”
“Thank you!” he calls out as you push towards the stairs. 
“Yeah, yeah, just pay up, Irwin.”
Ashton watches your exit, the stairs taking you further and further from sight. It feels like it’s bubbling up his chest. All the words he’s held onto for years. But if he’s going to be honest, this might be the most selfish thing he’s going to embark on.
You sigh as you enter Ashton’s bedroom. His closet door is open, suitcase splayed on the floor. Inside of the case, you can see his toiletry bag, clothes stacked neatly inside and a couple pairs of shoes on the floor outside the cas. You assume this is all the stuff he’s taking with him on tour. It’s a scene you're familiar with, having grown fond of the ritual as well.
You can’t shake the soft echo of Ashton’s voice earlier, I’ll take it. 
It’s eating away at your tongue. What will Ashton take? It certainly couldn’t be just one extra show you’d catch. It certainly wasn’t that. But there was something desperate and earnest in his voice. You think it might mean more. You want it to mean more. The crush on Ashton started slow, so slow you almost can’t pinpoint when it surfaced. But you know it had surfaced. 
You longed for his touch and when he was around, you felt like everything made sense. Even if it didn’t actually make sense, there’s a sense of comfort in his presence that slows your racing mind. You don’t have butterflies, but it’s a warm feeling buzzing beneath your skin. A kind of calm that cuts through the noise. 
Ashton could have his pick of whomever. It’s a fact made possible by his occupation and his good looks help too. Yet, you’ve noticed a decreasing lack of conversation surrounding relationships. You weren’t sure if he was looking less for them or if he was just keeping that information from you out of respect. You never hated that he talked about other women. You’d sort of grown accustomed to that topic, having talked Ashton off many ledges about love in the midst of drama, familial trauma with relationships, and his own stubbornness. 
You’re not less of a suspect about the topic either. You stopped talking so much about your own love life with Ashton as well. Part of it due to its slow death. With work and your crush on Ashton you sort of resigned yourself to a state of limbo--temporarily at least. You know you can’t linger on this crush and unknown forever. But you hadn’t been so bold as to bring it up before. 
Perhaps, it was time to breach that line again. 
The clack of Ashton’s slippers on his floors lets you know he’s moving up the stairs and closer to the bedroom. You keep your focus on the tuck of his jeans into the bottom of the suitcase. Your heart races though, the closer and closer Ashton gets. 
Would you really bring up this conversation now? Two days before tour? It was beyond shitty timing. Yet, opportunity feels like it’s slipping through your fingers if you don’t make a move now. Like if you don’t say something now you won’t say something ever. You’ll resign yourself to swallowing back down everything you’ve been brewing over in the ten minutes you’ve had apart from Ashton. 
“What’s the diagnosis, doc?” Ashton teases, slipping out of his house shoes. His descent beside you on the floor is a little slow and he groans just a hair as he gets down. 
“Bad knees,” you return with a laugh, taking a shirt from the pile to fold and roll. 
“You’re a fucking comedian,” Ashton huffs. He takes another one of his shirts and is acutely aware that he should probably handle his undergarments to spare you. 
It falls quiet around the two of you. You’re focused now on folding, rolling, tucking into luggage. You run your fingers over the items. “Got enough bottoms? I’m not sure how often you’ll be near a washer and dryer.”
“We find ways,” Ashton laughs. “Also I’m counting the pants I’m wearing on the first flight,  so yeah, I’m good.”
“PJ’s?”
“A couple sets to swap out,” Ashton answers, lifting up to display some shorts and t-shirts beneath his normal attire. 
“Space for souvenirs?”
Ashton laughs. “Take me for a rookie, baby?”
“I don’t know, maybe.” It falls quiet again. The scruff’s grown thicker and now might be enough to constitute a beard. “Going to let the beard grow out or shave it?”
Ashton shrugs. “I’ve got some shaving stuff packed just in case I choose otherwise. It’ll only need a couple days to grow back,” he laughs. 
Now, as the two of you lock gazes, you see something swimming in Ashton’s eyes. His brows are pulled together. “Everything okay?” you ask. Though the two of you are separated by a suitcase, you still inch closer. 
“Can-can I ask you something?”
You nod. “Anything.” And it’s so easy to say that. Because you mean it. Ashton can ask you anything and you’ll answer it. But you’re not even thinking what that might mean to someone else until Ashton’s stumbling over his own words. A man normally so confident, worrying his lips over and over with his teeth. 
“I just--I know we’ve been friends for a while and with the tour coming up so soon, I’m not sure this is even fair to ask now.” Ashton pauses. He wants to take the knot of your brows as rejection but he watches for a moment longer and the pieces are clicking. Your eyes narrow, then widen like the bulb might’ve just gone off even before he’s gotten all the words out. “I don’t-I don’t want to ruin anything! I just need to ask.”
The possibility you hadn’t fully wanted to let yourself consider seems to be crash landing into your lip. If you’d conjured up this moment, you were afraid that you’d give it too much weight and care about it a bit too much. You worried that if you did open the door it would slam close, so you let yourself just think, but never dream. 
“Ashton, I’m going to ask this because I just need it explicit. What are you asking?”
A beat. Then two. 
Ashton moves the suitcase top up and over to shut the half packed suitcase close. He moves closer to you, taking your hands. “I want to ask if I should ask for a romantic relationship with you if the answer might be yes? I-I know we have a lot to work out and I’m gone for 4 months in two days. But, god, I had to ask. I have to ask.”
There’s a lot of unknowns. It’s jumping off the deep end. But the things you do know is that you and Ashton have had years. That surely had to count for something. “It-it could be.” The words make your own teeth chatter for a second. Your guts hurt at the thought that you might even be inching closer to something. 
Ashton’s palm is large--it swallows your cheek as he brings your face up closer. Your foreheads brush and you can smell the garlic from your food and the subsequent mint you’re sure Ashton snuck on the way up here. 
His smile radiates over his entire face. You can feel the heat of it ghosting over your face and you smile too. “It could be?”
“It could be. I like you. A lot. You make me feel safe. But you’re leaving so soon and I don’t know if right now I can say anything definitely.”
Ashton’s lips brush over the tip of your nose. “I know. I’m sorry I didn’t ask anything sooner. But please know I’m happy at the possibility. We’ll talk. I promise.”
As Ashton draws back, you surge forward, locking him in with a hand on the back of his neck. Ashton had asked but still you need the words. “Promise me we’ll talk at least weekly while you’re on tour? Promise me that there’s a possibility back?”
“I promise there’s a possibility. I mean, more than that too. But it’s--it’s not something you just waltz into. We’ll talk. Weekly at the absolutely least.”
Ashton swears his chest is going to burst when you kiss the tip of his nose. His fingers curl and he wants to do nothing more than to take your waist into his hands, kiss you until his lungs burn. But he won’t do that. The two of you had only promised an exploration, something to talk about more in depth, nothing full fledged. Ashton can’t lie that he doesn’t take that promise to bed like treasure. He can’t lie that he doesn’t lets it bury into his chest. He can’t lie that his dreams don’t water that hope. 
He can’t lie that when he wakes to a text from you, Take care of yourself today, with a red heart instead of the pink ones that something ike joy, or maybe just a stronger hope, blossoms.
Your phone shakes and you pull the glasses off your face with a huff. You’d been buried into your laptop trying to read over the headlines about your client and you already know it’s going to be a mess, yet this is all you have just a mess. 
Ashton’s name greets you on the screen and your bubble of frustration shrinks. “Long time, no see, stranger,” you tease, taking in the shaky and choppy picture of Ashton. 
“Hey, stranger,” he teases. You can tell by the way his hair sticks to his forehead he’s recently either gotten down with a show. “What’s it like on the west coast?” he asks. 
“Sunny and on the verge of collapse.”
“Verge of collapse? Your client?” Ashton questions. 
“Isn’t it always? I’ll figure it out, I know. Just buried right now in tabloid bullshit. How was the show over there? How’s the east coast?”
“It’s a little cloudy. Heard some stuff about potential hurricanes. I’ll be glad to be further west next week.”
You nod, scotting down a little in your chair. “This time of year is hurricane season. Must be an active year though if you’re catching wind of it.”
“Our tour manager said the same thing. We’ll be getting out just in the knick of time. Just worried about the folks who live out here. Hurricanes don’t sound fun.”
You shake your head. “Mother Nature is always to be feared--fires to hurricanes.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
“How are the shows though?” you ask, knowing that you may not get all the time you want with Ashton on the phone so you try to get the best of it you can. 
“They’re fucking phenomenal. Amazing. Not quite the same as when you’re around, but they’re going really well.”
“And you’re taking care of yourself? If I ever get another text from you about being in a fucking hospital, I swear to God.”
Ashton laughs, a kind of laugh that you know is a bit uncomfortable, but he’s hearing you. “No, no, you won’t. Promise.”
“Good, I do not need a repeat.”
“No repeats. But question, is one of your dream dates still to get dressed up to go visit a museum?”
You give a pause, trying to assess with the somewhat clear picture of Ashton on your phone. You know you’d briefly mentioned it once, maybe twice. But you didn’t think it was enough for Ashton to still carry around the knowledge. You nod though at the question. “It is.”
“Why’d you say it like that? Are you getting suspicious of me?” Ashton teases. 
“Maybe just a little. Can I ask why you’re asking?”
“If you must know,” Ashton starts, accent morphing into an almost decent English accent, “I am attempting to court you. Dates are a part of such activities.”
Your laughter falls easily, cheeks heating at the thought. “You do not have to say it like that,” you huff with a smile. “Is your dream date still a picnic and painting?”
“And if it is?” Ashton questions, a bit of a tease lilting his voice. 
“Then I’m buying paints, good sir. As simple as that.”
“I can’t argue with that. Okay, two good things about your day? Yeah?” It’s a thing--whenever you talk to Ashton now you two share two good things about your day. It’s a nice way to break up the conversation, spin the frustration of the day into something positive. You recline into the cushion of your couch contemplating your day. After you share the good things you ask Ashton about his. Of course he mentions the show. 
Conversation winds through dreams--literal and things about that you want out of life. It’s nice to just let the conversation go where it wants. Ashton mentions being inspired on tour for new scents for his candle company and you let that take you to conversations about the smells of your childhood home. Ashton teases that he’ll have to make that another scent. When you ask about the smells of Ashton’s childhood, you notice he gets a little quiet. It’s a slow answer and when it comes, you listen to all the weight he gives the words. 
“Mum--she did the best she could you know. I think if I had to describe the smell of my childhood home it’d be a bit of vanilla, grass because god the house was always brimming with our ruckus.”
“Grass after it rains is a nice smell,” you offer after Ashton’s bout of silence. “We don’t have to push it. I appreciate you sharing what you did.”
“No, no, I don’t mind. Just hard sometimes.”
“I get it. It can be hard sometimes. But I appreciate you listening. It means a lot, you know? That you’re willing to let me work through it at my own pace.”
“Life’s hard enough,” you concede. “No need for me to make it harder.”
“But we have Dallas to look forward too.”
You nod. “Yes, we do have Dallas. I’m excited.”
“Good, me too.” Voices echo from further down and Ashton bids his goodbyes, sad and quiet but you ensure to send a message as follow up, I’m here, when you need to call or text or vent. Got plenty of space. You attach a picture of your bed you splayed across the queen sized mattress. 
Ashton’s response comes about twenty minutes later, God, that looks comfy as hell. Thank you. A red heart is attached too. 
Ashton’s not one to freak--he’s done plenty of it on his own and knows it’ll get him nowhere. But the night before the Dallas show, his phone shakes. Your name lights up across the screen. He thinks it’s just about tomorrow. Maybe an inner monologue about you trying to decide what to wear. But when the message starts with, I’m so sorry, Ashton knows it’s bad. 
He doesn't even read the full thing, pushes back from the bar counter and presses to call your number. It rings, and rings, and rings in his ear. “Please pick up,” he mutters to himself. 
“Hi, I’m sorry I can’t answer the phone right now. Please leave a message with your name and number and I’ll be sure to return your call,” your voicemail greets Ashton. 
He listens for the beep before speaking, “Hey, it’s me, Ashton. I-I admittedly only read like two percent of your text, but I wanted to call, to see if everything is okay. Please give me a call back when you can. Please. I’m worried.”
There’s so much more to say but Ashton can’t get his tongue to cooperate so he leaves it at that and hangs up. Pushing the hair off his forehead with one hand, Ashton swipes back to your text. I’m so sorry about this. Currently at the ER and will probably be on crutches tomorrow thanks to an ill placed step on some gravel. I’ll be sure to update you and call as soon as I know for certain. 
You’re hurt, but not terribly so and that’s a win. It’s not enough to quiet the thunder of Ashton’s heart. What had you done? Where had you been? He can only think to type out, Which hospital are you at? Are you going to be okay?
“Hey, Ash, everything alright?” Calum asks. His voice is soft as his question falls. Ashton’s not sure how he even catches Calum speaking if he’s honest, even as he gives a head shake no to the question. “What happened?”
“Just-I need them to text me back. Figure out how far the hospital is from here. I can think then.”
“Yeah, of course. But it sounds bad? Who’s hurt? When you get the name, I’ll see how quick we can get an Uber.”
Panic does no one any good, but Ashton’s not going to talk himself off the ledge of panic when it comes to you. He waits and waits and Calum waits with him, finally getting the pieces of your text in relation to a potential fall. The two men hover in the lobby of the hotel, drinks long forgotten by now. Though Ashton felt the waning of adrenaline leaving his body from the show just a couple hours before, he feels wired. He watches and watches his screen for it to only come alive by the shake of his hands. 
I’m sure you just got done with the houston show and would probably prefer some rest. It’s a pretty bad sprain, I’ll be okay, reads the text after a long 45 minutes. 
His fingers shake and he nearly can’t get a steady enough press to dial your number. The phone rings--once, then twice. Your voice is the sweetest sound he could ever hear as it floats in through the receiver, “Hi, Ashton. I’m sorry to give you such a scare, I know.”
“You’re okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Nasty fall. Really bad sprain. It’ll be annoying for the next couple of days. But I’m not dead.”
“Which hospital are you at?”
“Uh, Baylor something or another. I’m getting discharged now actually. I thought I’d be able to call after the initial run of test but they diagnosed it fast. And a lot sort of happened before I could get my hands on the phone again.”
“It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re okay. Do you have someone that can get you back to your hotel safely?” He needs that answer to be yes. He’s not sure where you are though and that’s the thing that’s killing him. Ashton does have the name of the hotel you’re staying at, as you shared your itinerary with him earlier in the week to see if you’d be at the same hotel. Your hotel is about 10 minutes or so from his. Happenstance you both knew but right now it feels like a godsend. 
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got someone that can drive me.”
“I’m going to meet you there okay?” You start to protest but Ashton’s quicker. “I know you probably don’t need me. But please, just let me get eyes on you so I know you’re not going to keel over, okay?”
You sigh. “Fine, Irwin. But you better be there before me.”
A smile lifts his cheeks. “I will be. Promise.”
“Are they at Baylor University still? I got the address,” Calum offers when Ashton hangs up. “And yes, yes I was eavesdropping,” he laughs at the pull of Ashton’s brow.
Though Ashton won’t admit this, he’s glad for Calum’s care. “Nah, no, they’re about to head back to their hotel. Getting discharged now. I’m-I’m going to go there and I’ll meet up with you guys for the truck in the afternoon before it leaves for the venue.”
“Sounds good. Keep us updated though? Should anything else happen?”
“Of course, man. Of course.”
Ashton’s quick back to his room to grab his bags. They’re not many, thankfully. All the while he tracks his drivers approach on his phone as he waits at the elevator door. It’s a slow descent, or at least it feels that way but the doors open and Ashton’s back into the lobby. Just as his feet hit the concrete of the sidewalk a car eases to a stop. 
“Picking up for Ashton?” the driver asks through the passenger side window. 
It’s a quick ride and Ashton thanks the driver before climbing back out into the thick humid Texas air. It’s heavy on his skin but all Ashton continues to think about is getting into that lobby before you. The glass doors are heavy but they reveal a mostly quiet lobby. No one at the front desk and he settles off to the side. Ashton halfway considers calling you to see how far you are, but before the thought can blossom anymore than a hair, the doors open again. 
Someone holds open the door and there’s a click and clack that’s distinctly hollow. “Thanks,” you state, working the crutches up and forward. 
Not what Ashton expected but you’re whole--together, in front of him. A wrap on your left ankle. “You’re late,” Ashton huffs, a faux annoyance. But it’s all you need to grin. The ache in his ribs eases. 
“I’m moving a little slower than normal.” The two of you meet in the middle, or maybe less than that as Ashton does cover more ground than you. But it’s not like you care. Though you are mindful that you are still sort of on the clock. And Ashton catches on too, when you don’t lean in for a hug or more. 
“Do-do you have any bags you need me to carry?” he asks. 
“Personal effects,” you tease, throwing a look over to Savannah who’s got your shoe in a plastic bag from the hospital. You take the moment though to introduce the small group you’re with--mostly other staff on the team. “Everyone, Ashton,” you conclude with a nod of your head. It’s a quick conversation to ensure you’re all okay and set to go. Once you confirm that you’re good and that Ashton won’t let you do anything to further hurt yourself, the group slowly thins. 
You and Ashton remain as the others move towards either the hotel bar or the elevators. You wait, trying to ensure that the group is gone before you sigh, shoulders rounding with the action. “I hope your heart will be able to withstand the show tomorrow,” you tease. 
“Oh, quit it. I’m not that old.”
“I don’t know you told you were old anyway.”
“Oh, society says it everyday. Aren’t you listening?:
“Absolutely the fuck not,” you laugh. 
Ashton’s glad to hear the sound. “Yeah, I thought you might say that, let’s get you to your room yeah.”
It’s a hobble, still unsteady on the crutches a little but thankfully once you’re inside the elevator, you know it’s a quick walk to your room. Ashton retrieves the keycard from your wallet for you and holds the door open. The room is cool--like all hotel rooms seem to be as they surely must double for freezers with the temperatures they are set at. But it’s clear that maybe you hadn’t been planning to be out--your laptop’s still on the bed. Your bag rest on the lounge chair open, clothes peeking out from the depths of it. 
Ashton drops his bag next to yours. 
“So what happened?” he asks. 
“We got back around 8 or so, a much too early night if I’m honest. So, I did a little work to pass the time. Then around 9 Devin, the stylist, asks if I want to go out and grab a couple drinks. I say yes, we’re sort of bar hopping to find the right vibe. I had like two drinks max at the bars we’d found. But on the way to another bar, coming down off the sidewalk, I just misjudged the distance or something. All I know is that I was up one minute then I was down.”
Ashton’s gentle as he kneels, taking a quiet moment to inspect your foot. “You ought to be elevating it,” he offers. 
“I sort of want to change, but I need to shower too. And that’s just awkward all the way around,” you laugh. “Haven’t even taken me on a date yet and I’m already on the verge of having to ask you to help me undress because of my stupid ankle.”
“They don’t mean that,” Ashton directs to your injured joint. “And I am working on that date, you just need to give me a few months.” Though Ashton hopes he can do it sooner. Though with this injury he’s not sure if his plans of stealing you away one day during the break will pan out still. 
You know you should be responding. Ashton’s gazing up at you from practically between your legs as if waiting for an instruction, but you’re too caught up in the way his face holds his beard, honey eyes dripping still as they look at you. “You’re handsome, anyone ever tell you that?”
“Some might say you just did.”
“Well, you are,” you return more confident. “You’re very handsome.” Maybe it’s just easier now. You can freely admit to such attraction because you know the possibility exist that you and Ashton have more. You know the tour is just a temporary thing, but it gives you two something to work from. Rather than just the comfort of ease and accessibility, you and Ashton have to make conscious efforts to communicate while he’s away. The discomfort makes you work. It reminds you that nothing worth having has always been easy. 
Your fingers trace the line of Ashton’s jaw, from the bottom of his ear to his chin. Feels like his body is melting but he remains frozen, kneeling on the thin carpeted floor of this hotel room. It’s a sort of limbo that if Ashton were to ever work through a metaphor, he might call it the seconds in a summer blaze with ice cream. You know the ice cream won’t stay solid forever, but in the first few moments, everything is as it always will be. The ice cream will still have a shape and the sun will still have a ray, but those paths had not crossed just yet--not long enough to have an effect. Yet, Ashton knows that while he holds still now, while he waits to see if you say or do something more, he is the sun ray. He will cause an effect. 
“You, however, sweetheart, are so incredibly dangerous,” Ashton whispers. 
“I haven’t done anything.”
“Besides absolutely wiping out and being a danger to your literal self, I do have to say that you are dangerous because if you keep scratching at my beard like this you are going to open a whole new can of worms that we will not be able to get back inside.”
You know it’s a warning. You don’t think you want to heed it though. “Just a kiss?” you ask. 
Will it ever be just a kiss, Ashton does not know. “You speak of me undressing you to shower and change and rest your ankle that is still injured by the way, and ask for just a kiss?”
You nod. “Yeah, just a kiss.”
Ashton pushes up, hand capturing your cheek as his lips capture yours. Your lips taste a bit sour, maybe the drink or two you’d mentioned before. But Ashton thinks he could swallow the taste and tattoo it into his lungs. He would tattoo it into his lungs if such a thing were possible. 
You swear you’ve never been held in such a more confident and gentle way as Ashton pulls up closer into your body. His hands find your waist, a grip that pushes into the flesh of you that makes you whimper. It’s a pathetic sound and you can’t help but laugh at yourself, interrupting the kiss. Your kiss ends with an echoing pant between the two of you, nose to nose as you hold his face between your palms. 
“You can make fun of me for that later, understand?” you huff. 
Ashton’s laughter falls out more like a groan when you brush your hands down his chest. “I don’t really think I have ground to talk, so.” Ashton presses another kiss, lighter, but still long against your lips. “I just--I’m a little ill prepared to go any further tonight.”
“Are you, Ashton Irwin, rockstar and drummer for the hottest band, 5 Seconds of Summer, telling me that you do not have condoms?” you snort. 
“It may be that. In all fairness, the spare I had I had to end up passing along to a couple of the other guys so, it’s not that I didn’t have them.”
“You just don’t have anymore,” you conclude for him. 
“Exactly.”
“No worries. My spare expired, so same boat. Besides, I did ask only for a kiss.”
“That you surely did. And I think this is our last stop on this train lest we decide to risk it tonight.”
You giggle, fingers playing just a little at the hair at the nape of Ashton’s neck. “I think this is my stop anyway.” 
“Can I ask for one more kiss though?” Ashton’s grin is small and sheepish, like he knows he’s asking for something he shouldn’t. But you can’t say no as you capture his lips one last time. It’s softer now, rather than holding for fear of life lost, now you know you can taste and taste without worrying about losing your chance. 
Though it should be awkward to get yourself changed and cleaned up, you find that it’s easy. Undoubtedly, it’s intimate to have Ashton help you get your pants on and off, but it’s easy to laugh and converse around your work. By the time you’re both settled in for the night, your leg slightly elevated thanks to some of the spare pillows, the blue hue of the TV screen is just an accent to you and Ashton’s laughter, 
“You had to have a crush on at least one cartoon character,” you huff. 
“No, I’m normal.”
“Ashton, you are anything but normal. So just fess up. Was it Lola Bunny?”
Ashton laughs. “No, it was not Lola Bunny. Who even is that?”
You ignore Ashton’s question and pry for an answer listing Roxanne from A Goofy Movie as another potential. It gets shot down immediately. “C’mon, Irwin! Just give me an answer.”
Your response is only Ashton pressing a kiss to your cheek with an adamant but giggled filled, “Goodnight.”
It’s not what you imagined how the first time you shared a bed Ashton would go, but you can’t think to change anything about it now. It’d always be a story to tell, one to hold close to your heart in the future. You reach over, finding Ashton’s hand easily under the cover. His response is immediate as he threads his fingers through yours. 
The TV remains on, a quiet hum and over the soft music of some commercial you’re sure you catch the rumble of a snore. “Thanks, for being here,” you offer. Even if Ashton is still asleep you need to say it. 
“You’re more than welcome.”
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talkfastromance4 · 1 year
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Hold me, never let me go—a.i
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a/n: pure fluff and pure self indulgence because I’m beyond touch starved. I’m touch famished. enjoy!
****
Ashton’s phone vibrated on his desktop. He turns it towards him to see the notification that you opened the garage door and he smiled at the thought of you being home and glanced at the time. It’s still later than he would like but he’s glad you’re safe. 
He continues stripping beats and pulling chords together for a new song he’s been humming for days waiting for you to join him. He can hear your movement upstairs as you set your things down on the kitchen table then you walk down the hall towards the bedroom. He hears the roll of the closet door open, you’re putting on comfy clothes. 
He pauses what he’s doing so he can light one of his candles, Beautiful Night, because it’s your favorite. He lights some more candles around the room then settles onto his chair once more until he hears your movement up above again. 
The door opens atop the stairs, his ears perk at each sound your feet make on the stairs. He’s become so attuned to your movements.
“Ash?”
“Hey babe,” he responds with a little timbre in his voice. You move next to him, fingers brushing his forearm delicately until he’s looking up at you. 
“Are you busy?” you ask. Not only can he hear, but he can see how worn down you are. For some reason work has been crazy busy for you and you’ve come home rundown for the last week.
“Not really, just playing around with this song idea,” he shakes his head.
“Oh…”you nibble your lower lip, fingers still grazing his arm. “Can I sit with you?” 
“‘Course you can,” he grins then shifts the chair causing your legs to bump his. 
He spreads the armrests wider and you crawl onto his lap, legs curled up on either side of his hips. He places his arms around you hugging you tightly to him and you nuzzle into his neck, giving soft kisses to his skin. 
“Tough day?” he asks quietly. He uses his toes to maneuver the chair closer to his desk but he doesn’t resume his work. 
Instead, he slips one hand under your sweatshirt so he can trace the curve of your spine and he places the other on the back of your neck. He rubs the base of your head feeling your body slowly relax at his touch.
“Long day,” you sigh. 
“Wanna talk about it?”
“No,” the shake of your head causes your body to wiggle against his. “Just hold me.”
“I can do that,” he smiles in your hair. “Want to hear what I’ve been working on?”
Your answer is another wiggle which he takes as a yes. He removes the hand from your neck so he can use the mouse to press play. A bittersweet melancholy melody fills the speakers, a soft trill of a piano is next and then the steady beat of his drum playing. Ashton taps his fingers on the skin of your back to the rhythm of his drums and then his voice croons through.
“You sing on this one?” he feels your lips smile along his neck. 
“I wrote this one for you, I thought I should be the one to sing it,” he kisses the side of your head. 
You start to hum along with the song. He’s always been impressed with how quickly you can catch the tune of songs, especially theirs. At the second chorus you try to sing along, your lips moving against his neck sweetly. When the song starts to fade out with harmonized crooning of him and Luke you resume humming along.
“What’s the verdict?” he asks once it’s over. 
“I love it. What’s the title?” 
“Don’t have one yet…any ideas?” 
“Play it again.” 
He does, you hum and sing along again. He moves his lips to the lyrics while his hands continue to caress your back.
“Well?” he asks once it’s over.  
“Hold me, never let me go.”
“I’m not letting you go, babe,” he assures. “What–”
“No, that should be the title,” you lift your head up to look at him. “Because you always hold me and never let me go until I feel better. That’s what the song is about, isn’t it?”
Ashton stares at you for a while then caresses your cheek. He leans in to peck your lips. 
“Yeah, that’s exactly what it’s about.”
Taglist: @calumance  @in-superbloom @wiiildflowerrr @sunshineeeluke @littledrummeraussie @suchalonelysunflower @hoodhoran  @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sunshineeashton @ashtonsunflower​ @mymindwide​ @itjustkindahappenedreally  @seanna313 @pandaxnienke @celestialams @in-a-world-of-fandoms @blairscott @writersdare
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Text
home life ~ ashton irwin
word count: 1669
request?: yes!
“So the request is domestic everyday life fluff with any of them. Whichever you know best or maybe a short blurb of all of them. I trust you so have fun and thank you!”
description: what’s the typical day like for ashton and his wife? let’s find out
pairing: ashton irwin x female!reader
warnings: nothing just some super cute domestic fluff with ashton
masterlist (one, two, three)
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As much as Ashton loved to make music and go on tour, his favorite place to be was at home with you. More specifically, in your shared bed, which was where he was now.
He had awoken before you, both of you submerged in the sea of warm blankets. He rolled over to face you and couldn’t help but smile as he looked at your sleepy face. You were asleep on your stomach, your face smooshed adorably into the pillow. A small sliver of sunlight poked through the closed blinds and landed perfectly against your face, giving you a glow as if you were Ashton’s personal angel.
He moved slowly closer to you as to not wake you. He extended a hand to run it over the soft and warm skin along your shoulders and back. You stirred at the touch, peaking open one eye to look at him before closing it again. A small smile came across your face as you snuggled closer to him.
“Good morning,” you murmured.
“Good morning, love,” Ashton responded. “Did you sleep well?”
“I always sleep well when you’re home.”
Ashton smiled and opened his arms to you. You turned to face him and shuffled closer until the warmth of his arms engulfed you. You breathed in his familiar scent as you buried your head in his chest.
“What if we stayed in bed all day?” he murmured into your hair. “We don’t have anything to do anyways.”
“I love the idea, but if we lay in bed all day we’ll get bed sores.”
“Those aren’t real.”
“Maybe not, but I’m not going to test that. Besides, we have to get up to eat and use the bathroom and stuff eventually.”
Ashton sighed and pressed a kiss against your head. “Okay, counter offer: we stay in bed for one more hour, then we’ll get up.”
You smiled and kissed his neck. “I can agree to that, I guess.”
An hour came and passed and Ashton was reluctant to get up or to let you go, but a deal was made and he was a man of his word. You reluctantly peeled yourself from the bed, your body still care from your night with Ashton. He watched you longingly as you walked to the bathroom. When he heard the shower turn on, he quickly jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom.
As much as Ashton loved being physically intimate with you, he also loved these moments of tender intimacy. Maybe even more than the physical intimacy sometimes. You were stood together under the hot water. Ashton had lathered up your hair with shampoo and gently tilted your head back under the water to rinse. You did the same for him before switching so he could put considering in your hair. He then lathered up his hands with body was and started to wash your body. You leaned into his touch, a dreamy smile on your face.
You giggled as his hands started moving down between your legs. “Naughty boy. You’re supposed to be cleaning me.”
“But getting dirty is way more fun,” he replied.
You giggled and playfully pushed him away. You rinsed the suds from your body before leaning in to kiss Ashton. His hands wandered over your soft, wet skin as his lips moved to your neck.
“You’re giving me mixed signals, love,” he mumbled against your neck.
“Only because you’re a horny nuisance,” you giggled.
“You knew that when you married me.”
One hot shower turned very cold later, you were both finally drying yourselves off and getting dressed. You offered to make breakfast, but Ashton insisted on ordering delivery for the two of you instead. “A lazy, relaxing day,” he said. You weren’t about to argue.
You always cherished having Ashton home. Days like these, where you were both home and free of any responsibility for an entire day, were few and far between, and they seemed to be very fleeting. You knew this was Ashton’s life when you married him. In fact, you had gotten a practice run of it in the early years of your relationship. It didn’t make the time away from one another any easier, or the time together any less bittersweet.
Since Ashton decided on a lazy day together, you collected the softest blankets in the house and settled down on the couch. Ashton collected the breakfast when it arrived and brought it into the living room. He placed the spread on your coffee table and took his place next to you on the couch.
“What shall we watch?” you asked as you cuddled into his side.
“You choose,” he responded.
“We both know that’s a bad idea since I’ll undoubtably end up choosing Encanto for the hundredth time.”
“More like millionth.” You elbowed him playfully. “But I love how excited you get when we watch it, so how can I pass up that opportunity?”
You smiled at him and gleefully turned on your favorite movie. The two of you watched in near silence as you ate, sometimes broken by you singing along softly.
“You’re very cute,” Ashton commented after your one woman performance of We Don’t Talk About Bruno.
“I know,” you teased. “But I don’t think that compliment applies when I’m stuffing my face and singing along to Disney tunes.”
“No, especially then.”
You shook your head. “That’s just lies, and you’re not supposed to lie to your wife.”
You placed you plate aside and laid back into his arms. He looked down at you with that look - the lovesick puppy look. He’s had it ever since you first met. There was something warm and comforting about that fact; the fact that after all these years, Ashton still looked at you with so much love in his eyes.
“You’re very cute,” he repeated, lightly brushing his lips against your nose.
“You mentioned that already,” you teased.
“I’ll keep telling you as many times as you want to hear it.”
You smiled and into into his embrace, kissing his cheek.
You spent a few hours cuddled up on the couch going back and forth picking what movies to watch. Ashton’s hand idly roamed your body; first running through your hair, then running over your arm and back, then tracing circles on your thigh. It brought you an added comfort and was almost enough to lull you to sleep a couple of times.
When dinner time came around, you told Ashton you were going to cook for the two of you and you refused to hear otherwise on the matter. He agreed, but only on the terms that he helped you.
That lasted all of five minutes, after which you had to kick him out because he was getting in the way more than helping.
“Go set the table or something,” you had said, playfully, after swatting him with the dish towel.
Some time later, you had dinner ready and placed on the table for the two of you. The sun had set and the only light in the room was the dim light of the lamps. Realizing how quickly the day had gone by resulted in a feeling of melancholy settling over you. You were starting to be reminded about your fleeting time with Ashton yet again.
Noticing your mood switch, Ashton reached out to hold your hand. “Hey, what’s up?”
You snapped out of your mood and smiled. “Nothing. I’m good. Just hungry.”
“Then eat, silly.”
After eating and washing up the dishes, you found yourself back in bed, once again cuddled up in Ashton’s arms. Your head was resting on his chest, listening to his heart beating against your ear. It was another moment you tried not to take for granted: the calm moments when you could just lay with Ashton, take in the warmth of his body against yours, the sound of his heartbeat and steady breathing. His hand had slipped under your shirt and was tracing circles against your bare skin. You could feel the callouses on his fingers against the softness of your skin.
Your eyes kept glancing at the clock on your bedside table. Every minute that ticked by was a minute closer to Ashton’s break ending. You still had a few days, but the next few days were filled with work for you and obligations for the both of you. This would be your last day alone together, and it felt like it was going by way too fast.
“Hey.” You looked up to see Ashton’s concerned face. “What’s on your mind, beautiful?”
You sighed. “I don’t want the day to end.”
“I know,” he said. “I don’t either, but we still have a few days left.”
“Not ones where we’re both off and can just spend the day together.”
He pulled you in tighter and kissed you on top of your head. “I know, love, but you can’t think about the future in dread like that. You gotta try to live in the moment. Think about us, here, right now. Besides, I don’t care if we have things going on or if I only get to spend a little time with you before or after you have work. As long as I get to spend time with you at all, I’ll be happy.”
Tears were welling in your eyes, both a combination of happiness at his words but also a little sadness at the thought of having to let him go sometime soon. But you cuddled into his side and tried to do as he said; forget about the future and try to live in the now.
“I love you, you know,” you said, your words muffled from your face being buried against his chest.
He chuckled. “I know. I love you, too.”
“I love you more.”
He gave you a look and poked at your side. “Don’t start this debate. We both know how it’s going to end.”
You giggled and settled in next to him for the conclusion of your relaxing day.
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theshyspy · 1 year
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bookstore au with ashton irwin - headcanon
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Based on this request from the very talented @littledrummerangie,thank you for sending it in lovie🦋
He was a bookworm who loved the familiarity of the known. He didn’t even notice how everything was a routine: the way he went to the same cafe and browsed the menu but got the same coffee each time, before heading to the usual bookstore a few feet away.
Which was why Calum was so confused as he stopped outside a newly opened bookstore, his eyes fixed at you moving inside it. In no time he had pushed the door open and started browsing through the shelfs, waiting for you to ask if he needed any help.
He swore you had the voice of an angel as you moved towards him, smile on your face as you wondered if he needed anything. (He didn’t, but) shortly after you were recommending all sorts of books.
He was so quick to return the next day, claiming he forgot to get one of the pieces on his wishlist (something he definitely hadn’t). He was just hypnotized, adoring the way you strang your sentences together and how all your opinions was so reflected. He could listen to you talk about anything for hours.
Every other day he would come up with a new excuse and be back again, not that you minded. He was your favourite customer, always smiling and asking about your day. Once in a while he even brought you coffee (he swore the barista had made an extra on accident but it happened way too many times for it to be a coincidence)
You always looked forward to your meetings, but was getting impatient, kinda hoping he would ask you out.
He most definitely wanted to ask you out. But it had to be perfect, something you couldn’t say no to.
So when your favourite author came out with a new book, he figured it was his time to shine.
At the end of your shift, he was waiting patiently outside the door. A basket resting on his arm, filled with food you’d briefly mentioned you enjoyed. To say you were surprised was an understatement, but you followed with a smile plastered on your face as he said he knew the perfect reading spot.
And that’s how you ended up with your head in his lap, his fingers gently playing with your hair as you fell in love with both your new book and the man beside you.
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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.
✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵
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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ughkat · 7 months
Text
brother's best friend | a.f.i
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au oneshot ❥
ashton x fem!reader
graphic smut, petnames
ashton is your brothers best friend, their band practice gets a little noisy and you decide to say something.
-
I sighed in frustration at the blaring clamor coming from the basement, where my brother and his garage band gathered every week. I focused my eyes heavier on the book in my lap, adjusting my seating in bed.
Another loud clash, followed by a wall-shaking bass riff.
"Ughh." I audibly groaned, tossing my book to the side. I got up from my bed and walked heavily out of my room, mentally cursing my brother. Opening the door to the basement, the series of loud crashing and laughs came to a halt, as I hastily made my way down the steps. My brother and his two band mates turned their heads to my direction, my brother rolling his head in annoyance. I crossed my arms as I reached the bottom step.
"Can you be quieter? Please?" I hissed. I quickly scanned the room, making eyes at the drummer, Ashton. He returned a smug look on his face as I spoke with anger.
"We'll keep it down." Ashton sneered, emitting obvious sarcasm. I rolled my eyes before storming my way back up to my room. Just as I was about to close the basement door, three clicks of Ashton's drumsticks, followed by sporadic banging on his drums, louder than before. I let out a scoff of disbelief, but continued to my room.
Ashton had been my brother's best friend since I could remember. Him, my brother and I being so close in age aided the three of us to spend a lot of time together. Even into our early adulthood, Ashton has seemed to bring out our most immature selves, acting as we did when we were younger. Calling each other names, playing tricks on each other, meaningless arguing. Ashton was always just "my brother's best friend". In usual little sister fashion, I found myself growing increasingly more attracted to Ashton as we got older, but never acted on it in fear of ruining his friendship with my brother. I couldn't help but turn my longing into childish anger.
Ashton's smug face burned in my head as I returned to my room, sinking onto the bed. "That stupid smile." I thought to myself. Yet I knew deep down I was more upset at the fact that I couldn't really get mad at that "stupid smile". I laid on my back, staring blankly into the ceiling. I wondered how long I would have to fake hate Ashton—And does he fake hate me too?
I listened hesitantly to the rhythms coming from below me, finding myself tapping my finger to a bass drum. I pridefully caught myself, crossing my arms across my chest. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing I enjoy his music.
Finding myself lost in thought, my wandering mind was interrupted by my brother's voice coming from downstairs. I sat up slowly to eavesdrop. Sounds of clanging and thumping of what I assumed to be instruments and equipment being put back into their place, followed by footsteps up the stairs.
As they made their way down the hallway to the front, I listened to my brother's words.
"Alright, see you guys. Ash is staying back for a bit." He chirped. The front door shut and I continued to listen.
"I'm gonna' go get a shower, help yourself to whatever." He continued to Ashton. I listened for the footsteps heading toward the bathroom, followed by the bathroom door latching shut. I watched the small opening at bottom of my door frame with anticipation of where Ashton would set himself. Sitting in my own silence for a few moments, I snapped out of my trance on the the door, realizing what I was doing and shook my head. "You're being a psycho." I thought to myself. I laid back lazily into my bed and grabbed the book from where I had tossed it, returning to my interrupted page.
My mind wandered into a world besides my own as the text on the pages before me flooded my brain. I was numb to everything around me, 100% encapsulated in my book. A jolting flinch shook my body and mind, tearing me from my fantasies when I heard three heavy knocks on my door. I threw my hands down to my lap abruptly with a frustrated sigh, tossing my head back.
"What?" I groaned, dragging out my words, I was awaiting the unwanted presence of my brother. My door began to open slowly, revealing the unexpected visitor.
"May I come in?" Ashton spoke with a cheeky smile, peaking only his head through. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, eyeing him up and down.
"Why?" I questioned with a petty tone.
"C'mon we haven't just talked and hung out in forever." He chuckled. I raised an eyebrow before letting out a sigh.
"I guess, come in." I shrugged, putting my book to the side with a sigh. Ashton carefully entered my room, closing the door behind him. I glanced quickly at the door as it latched shut, then to him. I scooted back into my headboard allowing room for Ashton to take his seat. He sat down with comfortability as if he'd been in my room a thousand times before.
"We were disrupting your reading...?" He started, reaching for my book.
"Yeah. On purpose." I muttered. He let out a scoff.
"On purpose?" He mocked with a smirk, now looking at me. I looked up at him, his gaze burning into mine. His face was only inches away.
"Yes, on purpose. You got louder after I left." I argued matter of factly. Ashton tilted his head, not breaking his gaze on me.
"You're cute." He chuckled. My heart began to pick up its pace, making my palms clammy. I rolled my eyes, looking away.
"Did you need something?" I huffed. I turned back to look at him, his face was suddenly noticeably closer. A small gasp escaped my lips as I almost connected faces with him. Ashton studied my features closely, meeting my eyes multiple times. My face slowly got hot as his face was merely inches from mine.
"I just wanted to come see you." He spoke softly, slowly moving his hand to my knee. A shiver was sent up my body at the touch of his rough hands against my skin. My breath hitched as he moved in closer, his hand carefully moved up my upper leg, drawing small circles on my inner thigh. I began to shift in my seat under his touch. Ashton looked back up to me, our eyes connected once more before he swiftly leaned into a kiss. I froze and gasped onto his lips, but swiftly, I melted into the kiss. He pulled back quickly, looking at me deeply.
"Is this okay?" He whispered. I nodded slowly, looking at him through my eyelashes. He swiftly pushed me onto my back, reconnecting our lips. The feeling of him on top of me sent a rush of euphoria throughout me, making the pit of my stomach flutter. He began to deeply kiss down my neck, then my chest.
"You're so beautiful." He muttered into my skin. He sat up on his knees and removed my tank top vigorously, following with my sweats. He sat himself beside me, bringing his fingers down to my slick slit. My back arched at the feeling of his cold, calloused touch.
"You're so wet for me, princess." He muttered into my ear. My chest rose and fell quickly as I watched him slowly pump two fingers in and out of my hole. I wrapped my arm around his, gripping into his toned bicep. My head lolled lazily into his shoulder, whimpers escaping my lips. He focused intently on his hand as he strategically worked his fingers on my sensitive bud and hole, making me slicker for him. He removed his two fingers, bringing them to my lips. I slowly opened my mouth, wrapping my lips around his slick fingers.
"That's a good girl." He smiled.
Ashton abruptly flipped us over, leaving me straddling him. I made my way down the bed, assisted him in removing his jeans and boxers. I returned to my position on top of Ashton, and reconnected our lips for another kiss. His calloused hands found my hips, guiding them slowly against his throbbing member. I whimpered at the feeling of him against my eager heat.
"You want my cock, princess?" He growled into my lips, digging his fingers into my skin. I nodded while biting my lip, suppressing a moan.
"I can't hear you. Tell me, baby. Tell me you want my cock." He breathed into my ear, grinding my hips harder into his member.
"P..please." I whimpered, "I want it." I squeaked out what I could. Ashton pulled my underwear to the side, now gliding his shaft against my wet folds. He chuckled with a smirk before speaking.
"Aww, you don't like being teased?" He mocked softly in my ear, budding his tip on my entrance. I let out a whine and rolled my head onto his shoulder, bucking my hips. He placed a hand on the back of my neck, and the other lining up his slick member to my entrance.
"You just wanna' get fucked, don't you?" He chuckled, sliding himself in swiftly mid sentence. I tossed my head back with a gasp at the sudden feeling of him filling me up. He placed a hand at my hip and began to bounce me up and down. I let out a squeal and placed my hands on Ashton's shoulders, digging my nails into his skin. He slapped a hand across my mouth with a chuckle. Abruptly, Ashton flipped us over, leaving me on my knees with my face against the mattress. He put a hand on the side of my face, the other on my hip.
"You're taking my cock like such a good girl." He groaned, leaning down to my ear. I whined and whimpered into the pillow, grabbing at any sheet in my vicinity.
"Fuck... Ash." I whined into the pillow. He gripped tightly onto my hip, keeping a steady hand on my face.
"You like being fucked like a slut, baby?" He growled. "You like being my slut?".
He fastened his rhythm, causing my legs to shake. I slowly began to feel my climax build, and so could he. He tossed his head back with a groan at the feeling of my tightening walls.
"You gonna' cum for me, princess?" He spoke. "You gonna' cum all over my cock for me?". My legs buckled as I released around Ashton's member, letting out a series of curses and cries. Ashton only quickened his pace to finish himself off, making me shake uncontrollably.
"Fuckk, Y/n." He whined, pounding vigorously into my sensitive hole. He gripped my hip tightly, pulling out and releasing his load onto my back with a groan. We sat in silence for a second to catch out breath before Ashton spoke.
"Are you okay?" He said gently, with genuine care in his eyes. I turned my head with a giggle and ran a hand through my now tangled hair.
"I'm okay." I sighed. "You need to get this off my back, though." I gestured to his mess on my back. He shook his head with a laugh, looking down. I gestured to a dirty towel I had already planned to wash later that day. I sat in my own thoughts as Ashton cleaned me up, before he took his seat next to me, handing me my clothes.
"So...What do we tell Y/b/n?" Ashton spoke with an awkward smirk. I sighed, also unsure. But I knew it'd be best that he didn't know.
"I can keep a secret if you can." I shrugged. Ashton let a smile take over his face as he pulled up his jeans.
The two of us were interrupted by the sound of my brother's bedroom door, Ashton looked at me with wide eyes.
"Go, go, get out." I mouthed, shooing him out of the room. He quickly gathered his shoes and made his way out of the door. Opening it once more and blowing a cheeky kiss. A giggle escaped me before I flopped back into my bed with my hands over my face, butterflies taking over my stomach as I fantasized about my newfound guilty pleasure.
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lovermine · 10 months
Text
everything i’ve ever wanted, a.i
desc: co-parenting with ashton had become easy the past four years since your daughter had come into the world, but one night alone with the man could change your relationship entirely. fem!reader.
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"dada! i can't leave without cuddles!" ashton's face lights up as he sees his daughter sprinting into the hallway, her backpack slung over her tiny shoulders, packed with everything she needs for her overnight stay with your parents. it's the first time she'll be spending the night away without one of you, but she seems completely unfazed.
"of course you can't, honey," ashton chuckles, pausing his conversation with your parents to lift his daughter into his arms. you can't help but smile at the sight of her holding his face in her small hands, planting kisses on his cheeks. the resemblance between your daughter and her father is striking—same light brown hair (though his is still dyed black) and hazel eyes. she has inherited most of his features, though ashton insists she has your nose. regardless, they are both beautiful.
almost five years ago, you fell pregnant—a result of what can only be described as a fling between you and the man who's now giggling with your four-year-old. you had met through mutual friends and engaged in a mostly sexual relationship with plenty of playful flirting. when you discovered you were pregnant, you feared you would be going through it alone, since the two of you weren't serious. but ashton stepped up the moment you told him, attending every doctor's appointment, holding your hand throughout the birth process, and even suggesting that you live together so he could be as close and helpful as possible. you could never have asked for more from him.
"be good for grandma and grandpa, and remember, she'll call us if you need anything. just tell her if something's wrong, okay?" ashton explains as he hands off your little girl to your father. your parents want her to stay the night so they can take her to a nearby zoo the next morning. it was hard to say yes, as your maternal instincts kicked in, but ashton convinced you that she would have fun and that the two of you would rush to her side if she needed anything.
"i’ll be fine! i'm a big girl now!" your daughter giggles. although you know she's still young and will need you for a long time, it becomes increasingly bittersweet to see her growing up and becoming more independent. as much as it's a good thing, it's also difficult to let go.
"we know you are, honey, but it's okay to still need us," you explain, brushing her hair out of her face and placing a kiss on her forehead.
"okay, bye mama! bye dada!" the toddler cheerfully waves as they walk out the door, bidding their final goodbyes for the night. as the door closes, a familiar pang of longing settles in your chest.
"why does she have to grow up so fast?"
"she's four, babe. we still have her for a long time," Ashton reassures you. the casual nickname tugs at your heartstrings, as it always does. although your relationship has been platonic since raising your daughter together, the playful flirting between you and ashton, albeit toned down for the sake of little ears, never ceased. it's comforting, knowing that this one thing has remained constant since your lives changed dramatically all those years ago.
"never long enough," you murmur, leaning your head back against his shoulder. you feel him let out a soft chuckle behind you, his thumb gently rubbing your shoulder in a comforting manner. "i can't believe she's already staying away from home for the night."
“i know," ashton sighs, the weight of the situation weighing on his mind as well. although he's accustomed to being away from his daughter for extended periods, he has always found solace in knowing that you're there with her. you are the best woman he's ever met, alongside his own mother. he watches your daughter grow and witness the incredible mother you've become. it's made him realize that he could never entertain the idea of having a child with someone else in the future.
"come on, let's do something to take our minds off it," ashton suggests, leading you towards the living room. you both plop down on the couch, and he reaches for the remote on the coffee table.
"what do parents even do when they're not taking care of a kid? i have no idea," you muse, allowing ashton to take control of the television.
"most parents? probably enjoy some much-needed alone time," ashton replies with a mischievous grin.
"we're not most parents, though," you counter playfully. "so, movies not made by disney it is?"
"i don't know, maybe i want to watch 'moana' for the sixth time this week," ashton teases.
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"yn, sweetheart," ashton's voice interrupts your dozing off, and you recognise the feeling of his shoulder as you slowly begin to wake again.
"oh, sorry," you murmur, realizing you fell asleep, but making no effort to move away. it felt good to be this close to him again, to be enraptured in everything that is ashton irwin after all these years. the relationship the two of you had before the pregnancy was casual, but if life hadn’t thrown the cutest little curveball in the way, you’re sure that the two of you would have gotten further.
"you haven't fallen asleep on me since the little monster was a newborn," ashton says softly, his voice filled with affection.
"i’m so glad i agreed to move in with you. i have so much respect for parents who do it alone," you admit, grateful for the support you've had.
"yeah, well, i wanted you and our little girl as close as possible," ashton confesses. "and i guess a part of me also hoped that you'd fall for me someday if you were forced to spend time with me."
"seriously?" you ask, surprise evident in your voice.
"there's no way that surprises you," he snorts, his hand gently brushing the hair out of your face. he gazes at your features, as if committing them to memory yet again. "i asked you if you wanted to be something more when you fell pregnant."
"yeah, but i said no because i thought it was just because you felt like you had to, considering we were having a kid together," you explain, your thoughts racing.
"it definitely wasn't just that," ashton states firmly. "because even four years later, those feelings haven't gone away. pretty sure they would've by now."
"but you've dated other people since then," you point out.
"no one that mattered enough to keep around," he admits. "it's hard to let yourself fall in love with someone when you keep comparing them to the mother of your child."
"why did you never say anything?" you ask, your voice filled with curiosity and longing.
"because i have everything i need," ashton replies, his voice barely above a whisper. "i have a beautiful daughter, and i have the family i’ve always wanted, even if it's not the conventional kind. i didn't want to complicate things by introducing feelings. i'd rather keep my feelings at bay than have her caught in the middle of an awkward situation."
"why would it mess things up?" you question, a glimmer of hope building within you. "don't you think I feel the same way?"
"well, now i do," ashton murmurs. "has it seriously taken us four years to realize what we mean to each other?"
"i like to think we've known it in a way," you reply, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "i think this is the part where you kiss me, ash."
"i don't think I'll ever be able to thank you enough," ashton whispers before pressing his lips against yours. It's a sweet, tender kiss that speaks volumes, expressing emotions that words could never fully convey.
"for letting you kiss me?" you giggle softly, feeling a rush of warmth and love.
"for so much more than that," ashton murmurs against your lips, his voice filled with sincerity. his hand cradles your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin as he gazes into your eyes. “for giving me everything i’ve ever wanted. for being such an amazing mother, friend, co parent, everything.”ashton's eyes shine with affection, his love for you and your daughter radiating from within. “i know it’s hard sometimes, especially when i’m away for long periods of time, but i always come back to loving arms. that wouldn’t be there without you being as amazing as you are.”
a soft smile plays on your lips as you feel the weight of his words sink in. "you being you makes it all worth it ashton. you’re an amazing father, even when you’re away you make it known that you’re thinking about us, that you’re coming home. it would be easy for you to use it as a break from parenting, but you don’t, and it shows how much you love us.”
ashton's eyes shine with affection, his love for you and your daughter radiating from within. "i do, i really do.”
you lean in, capturing his lips in another tender kiss, savoring the feeling of his warm embrace. in that moment, all the unspoken words, the longing, and the hidden emotions find their voice. the connection between you grows deeper, intertwining your lives in a way that transcends platonic co-parenting.
as you break the kiss, ashton rests his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours.
he pulls you into a warm embrace, enveloping you in his comforting presence before a smug grin appears on his face. “so how about that alone time, huh?”
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vai's thoughts: i think about dad!sos way too often to be considered normal, esp the dad!luke series i have planned and partly written in my drafts. so enjoy this little dip into domestic dad ashton aka the loml
© vailvr I all rights reserved. please do not repost any of my work as your own or share on other platforms thnx <3
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saucymalum · 1 year
Note
You said you wanted requests so here I go (you don’t have to write it) can you write an enemies to lover with Ashton (because that’s the best trope for him) where he finally makes y/n cry. And he goes to apologize and admits his feelings…..k bye 💖
What's This? (Consequences of my Actions) A.I
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Ashton Irwin x Gn!reader (they/them pronouns)
Word Count: 2.6k
I am so goddamn sorry this took almost a YEAR. I finally made it tho!
I always knew he hated me. He didn’t hide it. He didn’t like that I was “Invading” his friend group. That I was getting along with them. He didn’t like me. It infuriated me how he acted like he was better than me. All I wanted was to be his friend and he didn't give me a chance. I couldn't understand how he could hate me for no reason. So I gave him a reason.
 I tried to annoy him every time I could. He didn’t want me at a party so badly he would text me to not come and I’d arrive early with baked goods. He didn’t like me tweeting about his band so much that he’d intentionally be the only member not following me? I tagged them all in every tweet. I became his hell. Did I hate him? No. But I hated that he treated me like he was better. Like I was insignificant. 
To the fans, I was their biggest fan. I’d cover their newest songs on my Instagram story and take pictures in their merch. Some thought I was even dating one of them, which was almost laughable. I truly loved them all. The party's welcoming environment they created pulled me in as Ashton stood in the corner. His hazel eyes look almost black in this light as he watches my every move. Watching me talk to everybody while he tries to keep up the small talk and savors his lemonade. His eyes left a burning trail down my skin. It became a game for me, how far I could push him.
I’d try to ask him questions in conversations, simply because I knew he didn’t want to talk to me. And that's when my plans started to crumble. I liked the guy. I thought he was fucking funny. Being antagonizing was so much easier when I didn’t know him. I wanted to be the asshole's friend. I kept trying to keep up my game, but I failed every time unless it was social media. It’s easy to fake things there. So I did.
I ignored my emotions, my guilt, and the rising feeling that I refused to acknowledge. I posted pictures of myself at their concerts; I posted their songs on my story. I was a good friend, but I avoided Ashton. And at the end of the day, it didn't matter much to him if I showed up to the parties. I saw the glares he’d given me that made me want to laugh in his face. I missed not knowing him.
I started showing up early at parties and sneaking out early. I’d avoid Ash even if I felt his eyes burn me. It seemed fine until he caught on. 
I sat at their album release celebration, an hour in, and I zoned out and stared at a wall. People passed by and I sat drinking my now warm beverage. Blurs of people, laughing, smiling, dancing, pass around me. I can't believe I did this to myself. 
The seat beside me dips and I look to see Luke looking expectantly at me. One eyebrow raised slightly and his blonde hair growing out from the bleach.
"What's wrong?"
"What makes you think something's wrong?" I laugh nervously.
He sits there, giving no answer, knowing i’ll break. And I do. 
I spilled everything, beginning to now. Frustration pours out every word as the temperature in the room seems to rise. I don't want to be here anymore.
Luke sighs and I feel shame replace my relief.
"Why would you do this to yourself Y/N?"
"I DIDN'T WANT THIS! I JUST WANTED THE STUPID LITTLE PRICK TO BE HUMBLED. Or at least annoyed enough to stop being a dick." my breaths shake for a second "In no universe was THIS my plan. "
I fall into the back of the couch. "What do I do?" 
"Talk to him."
I groan, "I forgot you're a 'communication is key' person" 
Luke lightly shoves me, "So are you until you get scared and run away. You can't run away this time. Avoiding him means avoiding us and you know that." 
“I know.” 
“So what do you think you need to do?” He asks softly.
I take in a deep breath and straighten my back. My eyes find Ashton chatting up so girl in the corner. I let my feet guide me to him and without a word, too scared to speak, I grab his jacket and pull him out onto the back porch.
“What the Fuck, Y/N?”
“What is your problem with me? You refuse to talk to me, You hate my presence, and you constantly make an effort to show me you think im less than you. Why?”
“Maybe because you do shit like you just did without thinking about how it’d affect me.”
I scoff, “What a cop-out. You’ve hated me from the beginning. I want you to tell me why.”
He creeps further into my personal space. His height becomes increasingly harder to ignore when he looms over me. His breath fans over my face, and I want to cringe at the warmth.
“Has it ever occurred to you in your self-centered little head that not everyone likes you? You’re not some god or goddess Y/n. You grate my veins and you enjoy it. You TRIED to annoy me and you’re confused why I don’t like you? How into yourself can you be?”
Electricity pricks at my skin and the back of my eyes burn, “Don’t act like you didn’t hate me from the get-go Ashton. I know what it feels like to be disliked.”
“Then why does it bother you so much if i don’t like you? Huh? Sweet little Y/N just wants to be loved and cherished by everyone, isn't that right?” My breath shakes as the back of his hand brushes against my cheek. “Well, life doesn’t work like that. Some people will hate your grating voice and some people can't STAND your GODDAWFUL laugh. So get over it and be a fucking adult about it. Stop being a little baby.” 
WARNING: description of a panic attack, stay safe and skip to the end of the trigger warning <3
He steps back and I quickly escape the cold night that suffocates me. My throat closes in on itself and my eyes water.  I can’t breathe, I can’t BREATHE. I try to drag in breaths, but the effort is beyond fruitless. Through my watery eyes and past the blur and dizziness, I walk to the bathroom. I need to escape. I need to GET OUT. Everyone hates me, such a stupid baby who can’t even handle a man not liking them. How pathetic can you get? Everyone's eyes are on me. They’re laughing at me, aren’t they? I bet they are. The bathroom door’s soft close sounds like a thunderclap in my ears but that thunderclap is the most comfort I have felt since Luke and my conversation ended. My ears are ringing. I don’t know what to do. 
I sink to the floor, and my back hits the cold tile, shocking my skin through my thin shirt.I've prepared for this. Ok, just find something you can smell. Ok, I can that. My mind wanders into my negative talk but quickly it snaps to the smell of the Febreze air freshener going off. 
Good, good. One down four more to go, I can see the design in the ceiling, that's another. 
My lungs slowly feel less pressure on them, not a semi-truck but maybe a minivan. I can hear yelling outside the door, maybe someone knocking, it's so hard to hear when I feel like I'm underwater. 
I can feel the tile under my fingertips, the cold feels nice against my skin, the hot trails the tears leave sting and I almost want to press my face into the floor to cool them. 
The sweet drink still lingers on my tongue. Good, I got all five. Now breathe. It's so hard when the hiccups interrupt but I practice these exercises every day. 
The weight on my chest slowly releases and the tears go dry. I'm left exhausted.  I want to go home. The room goes steady and I slowly stand on shaky legs.
I avoid the mirror as I cool my hands in the water flowing in the sink and press them to my cheeks.
WARNING OVER: Stay safe, loves.
The yelling outside gets clearer when I open the door, the house has been cleared away of any guests and the pounding of my heart gets a bit louder. Luke stands in front of Ashton yelling at him, words I barely have the energy to decipher. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you right now, Ashton? You are a grown-ass man. What the hell would possess you to think talking to someone like that was ok?” Luke stands next to Sierra. She shoots a disappointed look at Ashton, but he ducks away. 
“Oh don’t give me the disappointed parent act.” He scoffs.
Ashton walks over to the couch, closer to me, and I press my back closer to the bathroom door that I closed.
Luke chases after him, “Well, if you didn’t act so immature, maybe I wouldn’t have to Ash! What were you thinking!? You barely know her and you already decided to chase her away?”
“If she didn’t want me to hate her maybe she could have tried to not do everything I hate on purpose.”
“You gave them a panic attack! Nothing they did made them deserve that. We just want you to explain. Can you please just let us understand?”
Ashton pauses putting on his jacket and sighs, “I’m scared, ok?” 
“Of what?” 
“Luke, they remind me of Lacy, and I can’t get hurt like that again.” He turns around and his eyes meet mine. Shock and remorse fill his eyes, but he brushes past me and bolts for the door.
I take a shaky breath in and look at Luke and Sierra. “Luke who’s Lacy?”
We sat in the living room of Luke and Sierra’s house as they tried to explain it in the most delicate way. But really, how can you explain to someone that they reminded a person they considered an enemy of their dead girlfriend? That they reminded someone they thought hated them of someone they were in love with? I didn't think I could cry anymore. I was wrong. I reminded Ashton of a love that was ripped away from him. I hurt him by being around him.
I wanted to be mad at him. Hurt him for punishing me for something I had no part in but I couldn't. 
I just wanted to go home and never leave.
And that's what I did. I stayed in bed, emotionally exhausted and numb. My self-destruction hit me like a brick, canceling my therapy appointment for the next day and turning my phone to do not disturb.
Ashton’s POV:
No one had heard from Y/N in almost a week. Seeing their face when I left made me feel like I swallowed a brick. A part of me felt glad that finally, FINALLY, they would feel just a sliver of what they've made me feel for months.
But the guilt…the guilt at that thought overwhelmed my brain quickly after. What kind of person would that make me to want someone to hurt the way I have? Even if it was someone who hurt that doesn't make it ok. 
This guilt led me straight to Y/N's front door. My hand hovered over the door. What was my plan when I got here? I don't think I even gave myself time to make one. 
Before I could attempt to knock on the door, it swung open with the image of Y/N's dark-circled eyes staring shocked at me. 
"Oh Jesus!" they exclaim and hide behind the door a bit. The wrinkles in the pajama shirt clinging to parts of their body. A small smile creeps into the corner of my mouth at seeing them again. To see that they were at least still alive and kicking.
"I'm so sorry to just show up like this!" I step away from the door, giving them some space. "I want to check in."
Their bottom lip moves between their teeth as they chew at the loose skin. A mental debate wars on behind their eyes, no doubt wondering who asked me to come here.
"Who blackmailed you?" they ask.
A hesitant silence floats between us as I wonder if it'd be wrong to tell the truth.
A sigh passes my lips. "I felt bad."
Their eyes quickly widen again as they forget the effort to hide themself behind the door. They rush the 2 feet to me and place a hand on my arm.
"No! No, you have nothing to be sorry for! I was a goddamn asshole, Ashton! Why didn't you slap me earlier? I was so arrogant and antagonistic towards you. I can't believe it. You did nothing but try to avoid me because you were hurting and I made it ten times harder."
"Y/N, I said horrible things to you. I felt like a villain. I never want to feel like that again. I am so sorry for talking to you like that." My shoulders sink in a subconscious effort to get down to their level. To look them straight in the eyes. To maybe show them all the emotions that I felt the moment I left Luke's house."
Y/N sighs and releases my arm from their grip. They step out of the doorway, a silent invitation. Luckily, I'm not a vampire.
"Ash, what you said was true. I can't fault you for saying the truth."
How could they think that? That anything I said was true, calling them such stupid names in order to belittle them and make them feel small? What have I done?
“Nothing, and I mean nothing, I said to you was true. Yes, I was hurt and yes how you treated me didn’t help but none of it was true and keep telling you otherwise until you believe.”
They look away from my eyes to the ground. “Well, that's gonna take a while since I thought all of those things about myself long before you told me.” 
A sour feeling rises in my stomach. Everything in me wants to protect them.
“Well, I’ll be here every time you doubt me.”
They scoff, “Like you’ll call me at 3 in the morning.”
“Who says I won’t” I shrug.
Their eyes glaze over with tears as they look hopefully into mine, “This isn’t how I wanted things to go, you know. I didn’t want us to hate each other.”
They turn away from me, busying themselves in front of their kettle. “I wanted to stop that stupid game months ago.” 
My eyebrows wrinkle quizzically, “Then why didn’t you?”
“I couldn’t admit to myself I had feelings for you.”
Their shoulders tense quickly and the spin around to me, “Not that I’m pressuring you at all, I swear. I just-I just had to let you know I didn’t want to hurt you like this.”
“But you did mean to hurt me?”
“I thought you saw me as less than you. I wanted to prove you wrong. Now I know I was the one in the wrong.”
“Y/N I thought you were amazing. I was stupid and thought if I avoided you I wouldn’t fall for you.” I step forward into their space, “I didn’t think I could handle it.”
“Did you?” 
The space between our bodies shrinks til we’re breathing the same air.
“Yes,” I whisper, my hand gravitating to their hip.
“And can you handle it?” 
“With you, I think I’ll be more than fine.”
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writersdare · 1 year
Text
Keep It Quiet | Ashton Irwin
Pairing: Ashton Irwin x Reader (she/her)
Summary: Ashton and Y/N kept their relationship a secret for a while, but one interview made the things a little complicated.
Warning: none
Word Count: 1 819
Author’s Note: I figured I'd write a little piece about Ash, so this came to my mind. I hope you'll enjoy reading it. Maybe I should write the 2nd part? Let me now. Requests are open ♡
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It’s been few months since Ashton and Y/N kept their relationship a secret. Obviously, the friends and close people knew, but for others it was still unknown, even though, fans were guessing everything right from the very beginning. To be fair, they started to talk about these two a year ago, when Ashton and Y/N only met. They were good friends at first, yet, people were constantly asking if they were dating. Perhaps, it was just too noticeable they were always drawn to each other.
In any case, no one had a desire to scream about the romance just yet. Ash and Y/N wanted to keep it private before sharing their little secret to the world. Three months felt more like a year, though, as that’s for how long their feelings were blooming. They moved in together rather quickly, it happened almost naturally and no one even thought it was a rushed decision. Maybe because Y/N was used to stay at his place anyway, before they became a thing.
They met at work, so it was double awkward at first. Y/N was responsible for a creative part of the band’s new album, no one obviously planned to become that close. She preferred to keep her personal life and the job separate, and the guys were always like that, too. After all they were professionals. Ashton was taking it even more seriously than others, that’s why it was so hard for him to make the first move. It was a totally relief, though, when the work was done, and Y/N became more of a friend for everyone. They were constantly going out all together, and that’s when Ashton figured it was the right time to act.
“How about this one?” he entered their bedroom in a black patterned shirt and dark jeans. The guy looked at Y/N in the mirror, while she was doing her hair. 
The album just came out, and the weeks were busy with the press. Apart from music, the band put a lot of effort into a visual part, and as a creative director, Y/N was attending some interviews with the guys to explain the whole art concept behind the album. 
The girl looked at her boyfriend in the mirror, but then turned to Ash and made a short step back to see his outfit fully. The musician was staring at Y/N, waiting for her verdict.
“Uh… I like the first variant better.”
“Really?!” he sighed and threw up the hands in the air, being annoyed he had to change again.
“You look good in this one, too, babe. I just like you in that velvet jacket better,” Y/N shrugged and came back to her hair.
“No, I guess you’re right,” he mumbled, looking at himself in the mirror. “Plus, if I put on a black shirt, it’d be better with the velvet,” Ashton concluded and glanced at Y/N, hoping to hear her opinion again. He was always like that, if the guy was unsure about something, he’d prefer people to tell him the same thing few times. As if he was checking if they were certain.
But Y/N only nodded, focusing on the curling iron.
“Are you nervous?” Ashton sensed her mood immediately and touched the girl’s shoulder. She looked amazing, and the musician made sure she knew that.
“Just a bit,” Y/N said honestly.
“It’ll be alright, sweetheart,” Ashton gently kissed her temple and smiled a bit, looking at her in the mirror. The girl gave him the same warm smile.
It was getting harder to keep everything private, as on the interviews they’d be asked about their relationship all the time, and it was annoying. Of course, managers were giving a set of questions hosts were not allowed to touch, but they couldn’t put them two on the list, otherwise it’d be too obvious.
“When is your car coming?” Y/N asked, when Ash went to the bathroom to change the outfit again.
“In twenty minutes. Yours will be in half an hour. Will you make it?” she heard his voice through the wall.
“Yeah, I’m almost done,” Y/N nodded.
Maybe it was a bit ridiculous, but rather necessary — they were going to the radio station separately to avoid too many questions.
Ashton left home earlier, and Y/N arrived shortly after the band. Introducing each other, the sign “on air” lit up, and the interview has begun. The program was going live on YouTube as well, so the lovebirds were sitting purposely away from each other. Ash was sitting in the end of the couch with Calum, Michael was in the middle, and Y/N was sitting in the corner with Luke. The interview shouldn’t have taken too long, it usually lasted about twenty minutes, so doubtfully anything bad could happen. Y/N sill felt like she was on the edge, but the presence of a friend next to the girl was calming her down. Asking the band few questions, the host drew his attention to her. 
“So, Y/N, tell me how was it working with the guys, how the process looked like? Where did the initiative come from? I know you’ve been working with some amazing musicians in the past, Coldplay, Harry Styles, the list goes on and on. Is the working process always different?”
“Um, yeah,” she smiled and nodded, relaxing a bit, as the question was familiar. The boys turned heads to her, so Ashton thought it was an okay time for him to stare, too. “I was really happy the guys reached out to me, it was exciting. The process is always very different, I mean a lot depends on the music and if, um, an artist already knows in what direction they want to go to, if the music is somewhat ready. With these guys it all went almost naturally,” the boys nodded. “I feel like when we first met, we already got plenty of ideas,” Y/N glanced at Luke, as he was sitting next to her.
“Yeah, that’s true,” he nodded. “I think it was clear from the very begging that we understood each other, you know.”
“Yeah. It was also helpful the guys knew what they wanted to see. It’s harder when someone reaches out to you with no idea or concept. Surely, it’s my job, too, but if someone has no clue, no matter what we start to do, everything would seem wrong.”
“Did you have such experience in the past?” the host continued the conversation. “When the artist would contact you, but have no idea what they wanted from you?”
“Oh, yeah,” Y/N nodded.
“Can you give a name?” everyone started laughing, Y/N shook her head, smiling.
“No… But to be fair, it still can work out in the end. It’s always fun to try different ideas, I feel like we also had really a lot, before sticking to the final visual concept.”
“Yeah, that’s for sure, we tried to be as open as it was possible to the new ideas,” Michael agreed, actively gesticulating like he always did.
“Now, Y/N, we all know what’s happening on the Internet, so I just have to ask you and Ash if there is something going on between you, guys?” the host was smiling wide, clearly trying to get the truth from them, and Y/N only hoped she wasn’t blushing.
“I’m as single as it can be,” Ashton joked and smiled, being obviously annoyed.
“Alright, you heard this first on the radio! Y/N? Do you have someone special in your life?”
Y/N had no idea how these questions were related to 5SOS and the album, but she only smiled, ignoring a little sting she got when Ash answered the question first.
“I’m single, too. I know it’s a rather boring answer, but I’m currently focusing on my projects and, well, love comes when it comes,” she nodded with a smile, and the girl could swear she felt a tension that was growing between her and Ash running through poor Luke and Michael in the middle. To be fair, Ashton was first, who answered in a particular way. He could just say they were friends. But she was also certain that they both hated to lie. They just had to. Y/N continued. “We’re all good friends, we care about each other and, I guess, maybe someone just got a wrong idea because of that,” she shrugged.
“Alright, just friends then,” the host nodded and continued the interview, which all of a sudden became more of torture.
As about five minutes left, they started to play a game “who is more likely to”. The questions were quite innocent and simple, so everyone finally relaxed and were answering openly, fooling around time to time.
“Okay, next question,” the host said, smiling. “Who is more of a mom in your group?”
“Ashton,” Michael said right away.
“Yeah, Ashton…” Calum mumbled, thinking. “Although, I’d say Y/N was taking his place– “
“Yeah, I actually agree,” Luke giggled. “Y/N is more caring, would always bring snacks or ask if we drink enough water...”
Ash chuckled and nodded, remembering a story he actually did not need to tell on the radio.
“That’s definitely Y/N,” he looked at her, smiling and trying to hold giggles. “Remember, when we just woke up the other day and…”
Everything happened as if in a slow motion. Y/N kept smiling, trying to hide the horror on her face. Calum’s eyes widened, and Michael glanced at Ash to give him a hint to shut up. Luke hurried up to interrupt and save the day.
“Oh, yes, we were renting that house for a while to isolate ourselves from the civilization and just focus on music and art, and the other morning we went downstairs, Y/N was already there, making breakfast for everyone. That was rather sweet.”
Y/N nodded with a smile, deciding to go with that story, even though it had never happened. It still wasn’t too far from the reality, she was caring by her nature, indeed. And the girl definitely was coming to the studio with some snacks for everyone before.
“Yeah, that was sweet,” Calum nodded, supporting a lie. Ashton just kept smiling and nodding, feeling like an idiot. Until the end of the interview he preferred to stay silent and answer only when he was asked directly.
“Well, that was really close,” Calum commented, taking a seat in a car next to others. They were going to have another interview, so Y/N was coming with them.
“I know,” Ashton sighed. “Thanks a lot, mate,” he glanced at Luke.
“That’s alright, I think it all worked in the end,” the guy nodded with a supportive smile.
Everyone agreed with him, having no idea that meanwhile the fans were analyzing the video from the live interview and talking about Ashton’s and everyone else’s reaction when he almost told a story about him and Y/N waking up together.
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– gifs aren’t mine and belong to the rightful owner – saw them here @uservalentine
© writersdare | all rights reserved
All stories are original and written by me. Do not copy, trace and post anywhere without permission and credit. The stories are fictional, they do not correspond to reality and written just for fun ♡
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