Megan, 24, writes for so many fandoms Queen/ Ben Hardy masterlist // Main Masterlist // The Pitt Masterlist // Old masterlist // Evan Buckley Masterlist // Eddie Diaz Masterlist // Tommy Kinard Masterlist // Buddie Masterlist // SWAT Masterlist Requests open
hello!! can you do more luke x reader and/or ashton x reader x luke? i don’t have any ideas for them rn but if you need any or i think of any ill come back!!! i love love love your work!
Hello , Thank you so much 🥹❤️
I do happen to have a Luke imagine that’s just got finished tonight. It’s a request and a mini cross over where the reader works in The Pitt.
But I would love any ideas you could send in for Luke x reader x Ashton as I’m doing well keeping on top of 5sos requests they are all I want to write at the moment
I can’t wait for what ideas you might be able to share
I don’t know exactly when it will be posted but the next one I have lined up is a new Dennis imagine where reader calls him for help when she’s drunk at a bar.
Summary: Despite the tour that drains every ounce of the band's energy, (Y/n) is still suffering her insomnia. And a string of sleepless nights causes a few accidents for (Y/n) and frightens the band.
Enjoy.
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"Where you going?"
The words seemed to pass through Calum's lips in a blur until they were jumbling together. His voice was gruff, sleep laced through each sylabol that showed he wasn't fully awake, though he wasn't quite back to sleep yet either.
His cheek was meshed into the pillow that shrouded round him and seemed to envelope and conform to him like a second skin. He couldn't find it within himself to open his eyes, it was too much hard work and his mind simply wouldn't allow it.
But he did, however, manage to reach his left arm out that had previously been strewn on the pillow. His arm didn't lift far from the bed, but just enough so that his hand could reach out for (Y/n).
He had been drifting, on the verge of sleep when he felt a movement beside him. (Y/n) was getting up. Calum had no idea what time it was, though he did know it was some time after midnight because they hadn't gotten back on the tour bus until then and it took them all a while to get settled in their bunks and to sleep.
The bunk was rather small for two people, but (Y/n) and Calum somehow made it work. He wouldn't be able to settle properly if he didn't have her beside him, and she was now moving.
"Bathroom," (Y/n) murmured back, a softness to her otherwise strained voice.
She let her fingers brush across Calum's hand, their fingers ghosting before she reached down and moved a few loose tendrils of hair away from his temple and eyes. The touch must have made some part of him relax because his arm flopped down against the pillow again and a soft sigh left his lips at the touch.
(Y/n) traced her fingertips along his temple and down his cheek, light enough that her touch could have been mistaken for the brush of a feather.
When her touch was gone, Calum barely made a noise, already falling back into the depths of dreamless sleep again.
Green-eyed jealousy clawed at her chest as she watched him.
Oh how jealous she felt.
Tears sprung in her eyes from one look at Calum and she turned before she could stand and sob at the sight of him falling blissfully asleep.
Her hands reached out for the wall, using it to prop herself up as she wobbled through the small room that was at the back of the bus which housed the bunks they slept in when travelling on the road.
It wasn't so much that the bus was uneven or going over potholes or putting her terribly off balance. It was how drained and delirious (Y/n) felt which made her need to reach out for stability.
She made it into the small toilet at the back of the bus, not bothering to turn on the light. Her hands braced on the edge of the sink for stability and she leant forward, wishing for the headache raging behind her eyes to disappear.
The rest of the band were asleep, had been for a while now. (Y/n) was the last one out of the five of them who was left like this. Awake, broken and exhausted and wishing for nothing more than to be able to lie down and sleep.
But her mind wouldn't let her.
Sleep wasn't her friend. Sleep hadn't been her friend for a long time now. It had been okay when she was in school, it was something she had coped with, broken sleep here and there, sleeping in on weekends to make up for the lack of sleep during the week nights.
Being on tour with the band made it better, being totally exhausted from shows and always on the move, prepping for shows, running down her energy on stage, staying up for more than twenty hours at a time, it worked. She got better sleep during the tour, and when they were home and working in the studio to prepare albums, it was a busy, hectic time. Sleep patterns were strange and random and they made it work.
There were just times like these where (Y/n)'s insomnia broke all the rules. Times where she had been on stage each night, where she had blasted through a show, done the prep, gotten the stages ready and then packed back up. Nights where it was midnight before they were back on the bus or in a hotel for the night. And sleep still didn't think (Y/n) deserved its gracious rest.
This was the fifth night in a row where (Y/n) hadn't managed to sleep; at all. A few minutes during the day before a show, the odd minute here and there at night when she was horribly broken down and her mind finally caved in.
Everyone knew she wasn't sleeping, they could see it on her face, in the bags beneath her eyes that had to be covered with make up during a show. They could see the gaunt look to her face, the sluggish way she moved, the way she seemed one second away from collapse. But there wasn't much anyone could do that they hadn't already treied, to give (Y/n) some peace and help her sleep.
Nothing worked, and (Y/n) was sick of it.
She wasn't entirely sure why she had decided to come into this small, cramped space when she could have gone in the other direction and headed into the little area that was made to feel like a lounge with a sofa and some seats. That would have been a better idea since she couldn't sleep.
It wasn't like she could sit here in the poxy toilet space and try to get some sleep or turn her mind off.
But she had told Calum she was going to the toilet, it had been the only thing she could think off the top of her sleep-deprived head that wouldn't make him wake up and worry. If he knew she was struggling again, if he knew how wide awake yet dead on her feet she felt, then he would stay awake with her. He would try and help her to fall asleep, and (Y/n) didn't want that.
She didn't want anyone else staying awake needlessly, not when she was the only one being plagued by insomnia.
With one hand gripping the edge of the sink she was leaning heavily against, (Y/n) raised her right hand and pressed her closed fist against her parted mouth. She clenched down until the sharp edges of her teeth were almost cutting through the tough skin of her hand, chomping down to smother the scream that was threatening to break out of her chest. If she let the scream escape, she would wake and alert the band, and she didn't want to do that.
The boys had done so much for (Y/n). All of them tried to help her when she couldn't sleep.
All five of them had to share the sleep space, like four teenagers sharing a bedroom. All of them had gone through the motions with (Y/n) and given suggestions.
They suggested she listen to calming sounds through her headphones to sleep, they suggested playing soft music or natural sounds or white noise. They hummed until they fell asleep and (Y/n) was calm, but wide awake.
They doused her bunk in lavender. Ashton gave her some of his green tea, the others made her hot chocolates to see if a hot drink would help her settle. They suggested not going on her phone up to an hour before she wanted to try and sleep, no screen time. She didn't even read because reading always stimulated her mind and kept her awake.
(Y/n) took long showers, she took sleeping remedies, her anxiety meds were supposed to make her drowsy but even that didn't send her to sleep.
Her grip remained tight enough on the sink that she was sure the pressure she applied was going to break the porcelean at any moment.
Without the light on, her surroundings were cast in dark hues and faint blue shadows. There was a thin illumination from the light in the hall and the small LED lights along the floor in the sleeping area.
It cast enough light that when (Y/n) looked up into the mirror, she could just make out her features, but the longer she stared, the more unnerved she became. Her features didn't look right. Her eyes looked strange, broken, hollow, somehow sunken into her face. Her cheeks were gaunt and hollow. Her mouth was parted and gave a hollow gaping expression like her jaw was hanging off and about to fall into the sink.
Whatever image stared back at her in the mirror, (Y/n) didn't recognise it. This wasn't her. She didn't look like this.
Her mind was casting strange spells over her; being sleep deprived really did make the mind turn against itself.
"I just. Want. To. Sleep!"
the words were a broken hiss but her reflection seemed to say something else back to her entirely. She felt as if her reflection was taunting her. Everything was taunting her. Everything was against her; nothing and no one wanted her to sleep, to rest and recouperate and feel better. Everyone wanted her to suffer. Nothing was helping.
The next moment happened in a blur that (Y/n) didn't really understand until she took a cautious step back until the back of her knees hit the edge of the toilet.
She blinked, hard and repeatedly to try and clear the ache that suddenly burst to life behind her eyes and throbbed in her temple.
When (Y/n) focused her blurring vision ahead of her, she lolled her head to one side, staring with wonder and shock plastered across her face. The mirror was cracked. A huge spiderweb of fractures and fizzling lines spread from the top middle section of the mirror, reaching out to the corners and partway down the mirror.
Sprinkles of glass had rained down into the sink, but most of the broken pieces had stayed in place in the frame.
There were streaks of blood soaked into the cracks, smeared across the broken pieces, splotches dripped down into the rim of the crystal white sink.
When she lifted her hand, she barely winced when she touched her temple that was throbbing and aching.
Her hand retracted from her temple and reached out for the mirror instead. A soft "Huh," escaped her lips when she touched the glass and it still felt smooth and glistened beneath her touch.
Had she really thrust her head into the mirror? Had it really broken, or was this just a delusion, a waking dream because of her lack of sleep?
(Y/n) winced. Her head was aching; now she knew what Ashton's bass drum felt like, being hit and pummelled repeatedly, night after night in each different city and venue that they played. Her skin was pulsing, her temple throbbing and aching like he was swelling up and growing with each pulse of her heartbeat.
A strange sense of wonder flooded (Y/n)'s chest when she found that she couldn't keep her eyes open. Her head was aching too much, the dim night lights that lit up the corridor and the floor at the edges of the walls were suddenly too bright for her eyes to handle. There was a dull sensation creeping through her temple and a blaring white noise ringing in her ears.
Her feet bent and stumbled beneath her, leading her to sway and fall against the wall as she tried to leave the small room. Her hands plastered to the thin walls, using them as leverage to keep herself upright as she kept her aching eyes closed and focused on her hazy memory and sense of direction to get her back to the sleeping bunks.
God, she was glad she and Calum were on a bottom bunk so she didn't have to strain and wrangle herself up onto one of the top bunks.
She knew she found the right one when she tried to open her eyes and saw those wisping curls and heard that mellow breathing. She would know Calum anywhere by the sound of his breathing.
He seemed to have moved towards the edge of the bunk when she got out, perhaps to try and reach after her when he partially woke and realised she was leaving for a few minutes.
So (Y/n) tried to be careful as she flopped her chest onto his arm- since he was laid on his right side facing her- and she swung one leg up, keeping her body hunched over so she could clamber over Calum and get into the bunk. She heard him grumble something and she felt his hand curl around her thigh where her shorts had ridden up.
His touch was firm and reassuring, gripping her thigh and giving her a push to help her get in behind him.
She landed on the thin mattress with a bang and one elbow whacked against the wall behind her, but she barely felt a thing.
Deciding not to bother scrambling beneath the cover, (Y/n) let her head sink into the pillow, feeling warm and protected and secured in the small space between the wall and Calum. These bunks weren't made for two, but they made it work. Sleeping alone in one of these after wedging in together always felt wrong, there was too much space when they were sleeping alone.
She flopped her left arm over Calum's waist and wedged her leg in between his, settling on her right side. Her face was close enough to Calum's back that her breaths fanned against his skin through his shirt, but not close enough that her face was pressed up into his back like she normally would have. Her temple was still aching.
What a strange illusion her mind had cast on her in the bathroom. (Y/n) felt calm all of a sudden, she felt relaxed despite the throbbing in her temple, and her mind wasn't racing or wandering off.
There was… nothing. Nothing going through her mind, no thoughts, no memories or scenarios or dreams or voices chattering away.
And for the first time in five consecutive nights, (Y/n) finally found herself falling asleep.
Or unconscious.
***
A guttural groan vibrated through Michael's throat and made his chest quake. He tried to open his eyes, to adjust to the sudden brightness shining down upon him, but he couldn't get his eyes into focus. Not when his main concern was the hand that was roughly shaking his shoulder, rousing him abruptly from the fading dream that he could scarcely remember now.
His shoulder jostled in its socket and he groaned again, managing to fling his arm out of his bunk to make whoever it was stop shaking him. He was awake. He didn't want to be, but he was.
"Are you okay?" The worry that laced through Luke's voice and edged his broken tone made Michael frown as he opened his eyes.
He rolled onto his left side, slowly swinging his legs over the edge and pushing himself up from the bunk; suddenly glad he wasn't on the top bunk as he wouldn't of had the energy to get out.
"Apart from you waking me up, yeah. Why?"
He ran a hand through his tousled hair, feeling each strand stuck up in every direction like a bird's nest on top of his head. He squinted across at Luke, unsure why his bandmate thought he suddenly wasn't well and why he was so eager for Michael to wake up and talk.
Why did he think something was wrong? Had Michael been talking in his sleep? He'd never done that before to his knowledge.
His exhausted eyes focused on Luke, who's own hair must have resembled Michael's, spiked up from awkward sleeping positions and would probably need washing just to tame it into any sort of hairstyle. The way Luke frowned at him, lips parted and tongue darting out to the corner of his mouth as if feeling for the long-gone lip ring, showed how concerned he was for reasons unknown.
"The fucking toilet, what the Hell happened in there?" With an exasperated tone, Luke flung his right arm out behind him to signal towards the end of the tour bus.
With a scoff and a roll of his eyes, Michael weaved around Luke, catching his shoulder as he walked past him to take a look.
This was a funny sort of wake up call. Shaking Michael awake to let him know that someone had either blocked the toilet or trashed the cupboard sized room. Well, it wasn't Michael. He hadn't gotten up during the night to go to the toilet, he certainly hadn't blocked it or locked himself in and broken the door to get out or whatever the Hell it was that Luke presumed had happened.
He swore that if he went in there and found the toilet blocked or overflowing, he would run back out again. That wasn't something he could- or would- fix.
But as Michael aimed for the room and clutched the doorframe, peering around, he shuddered and stepped back automatically.
"Jesus!"
That hadn't been him. He hadn't caused that, but whoever did must have been in some dire situation. Why hadn't any of them heard it? When had this happened? What had they been doing in there?
Stepping back towards the bunks, Michael's brows knitted together, lips parted in a look of twisted worry and shock. He reached out for the bunks on the left, stepping onto his own so he could drag the small curtain aside and look up into the small space where Ashton was sprawled out.
"You good, are you okay?" He prodded Ashton's torso seeing as though the drummer was half awake, clearly having heard the comotion that was starting out here.
Ashton's bleary eyes opened and he lolled his head to the left until he was almost hanging out of his bunk.
He frowned, squinting at them as Luke leant up to try and look at him, though when Luke tried to reach out for him Ashton batted his hand away.
It looked like Luke was trying to analyse him, like he was searching for something. "Was it you in the bathroom?"
"I'm literally in bed. What's going on?"
What was he supposed to have done? How was he meant to have done something in the bathroom- whether that meant the tiny shower cubicle or the toilet in the next room- when he had been in bed all night? Ashton had climbed up here at one in the morning and he hadn't left since. He didn't have a weak bladder and had to get up during the night, once he was asleep that was it. He wasn't moving for the remainder of the night.
With a roll of his eyes Luke turned away from the bunk, his back to both of them as he looked at the opposite bunk, the one directly beneath his own. If it wasn't Michael, and it wasn't Ashton…
He bent down and parted the thin curtain, letting the light spill into the small space as his breath caught in his throat.
"It's Cal."
His voice was nothing more than a whisper, but the terror in his words made Michael and Ashton shudder nonetheless.
As Ashton clambered down to find out what was happening, both Michael and Luke leant into the bunker and patted and nudged Calum's arm and shoulder, shaking him as tenderly as they could to get him to wake up.
A violent jerk rolled through Calum's leg and sent his foot spasming off the edge of the thin mattress and earned a yelp from his lips. His eyes burst open and he looked around, feeling drowsy and overwhelmed and confused all at once. His eyes narrowed as he stared up at a pair of worried faces looking down at him and he half expected them to have magnifying glasses in their hands because they looked like they were searching for something.
"What were you doing, are you good? Did you have some kind of accident-"
"What?" This was far too many questions for this time in the morning, although Calum wasn't sure what time it was, it felt far too early to be awake.
"The mirror in the toilet, you broke it. What happened?"
Upon hearing that, Ashton turned away from them and padded across the carpet towards the back of the bus. It took him all of two seconds to look into the small room, note all the broken glass, the cracked mirror, the splotches of blood on the sink and the floor; for him to turn and head back to them, now understanding the urgency of the situation.
Concern pooled within Calum's chest and he warily leant backwards into the pillow when Michael reached out towards him. But he was only trying to point to Calum's temple, clearly having seen something.
Calum's brows furrowed and he touched his temple, rather surprised not to feel any sort of sore spot considering they thought he was injured, for reasons unknown to him. He rubbed a bit harder at his temple but when he pulled his hand away, his stomach sucked in and his jaw loosened. There was dried blood on his fingers; there was blood on his temple, that was what Michael and Luke were staring at so intently.
"What the fuck… I- I haven't- I've just been asleep, you woke me…"
Confusion tore through him as he flung the thin sheet off his legs and clambered out to his feet, surprised to find that other than the shock and panic dwelling in his chest, he felt just fine.
He stumbled past Luke and weaved around Ashton to go to the toilet and see what they were talking about.
The mirror was broken. A spiderweb of cracks stretched out from the top centre of the mirror and there were lots of shards laid in the sink and stuck to the edges. The blood was the most worrying part. Soaked and dried into the cracks like cement or tile grout. Painted across the shimmering white sink like it was a canvas that needed to be decorated.
With furrowed brows he leant closer to the mirror and peered through one of the larger fragments that wasn't broken or split with hairline cracks. As he stared at his reflection, Calum rubbed away at his temple until the blood came away in flakes like peeling paint.
There was no cut to his temple. This fact surprised him, even though deep in his bones Calum knew this wasn't him. This hadn't been down to him. He hadn't done anything in here, he hadn't gotten angry and whacked the mirror or tossed something at it or pummeled his fist into it. This wasn't his doing.
So why did he have blood on him?
A horrifying realisation dawned on Calum and in a split second he was turning on his heels and pushing his way back into the bunk area. He tried not to shove his bandmates who were watching him with worried eyes, clearly thinking he had gone through some sort of dilemma during the night that he had tried to hide from them.
"It wasn't me. It wasn't me!" Growing terror surged through Calum's voice and alerted the other three that there was one person they hadn't even thought of. One person they hadn't considered who could be the injured party here, because it was something so out of the ordinary.
Calum couldn't let his focus land on any of them. He couldn't even look at them and see the realisation pooling within their eyes as they worked out what he meant and who it was that had been hurt.
He scrambled towards his bunk until he could thrust himself down on his knees on the carpet and lean in. His hands reached out for (Y/n) who was exactly where he had left her, laid with her back to him and her front facing the wall. Her knees were slightly curled up towards her stomach and her arms were laid loosely over her middle almost as if she were a child trying to hide away.
That was the first clue; (Y/n) was actually asleep.
She wasn't laid there on her phone or reading a book or just laid with her eyes closed trying to rest and wait for the rest of them to wake up. She was asleep. She had managed to fall asleep last night.
Reaching out for his phone that was tucked beneath his pillow, Calum switched the torch light on and shone the light across (Y/n) while his right hand gently curled around her shoulder. He carefully rolled her onto her back while his stomach pressed into the edge of the mattress so he could lean in and hover above her.
Even before he saw her properly, Calum clocked the streaks of blood smeared across his pillow and there was a large patch of blood soaked right through (Y/n)'s pillow that was wedged in the corner.
"Oh my God- baby what did you do?"
His phone dropped onto the pillow, the light shining up at the roof of the bunk and casting a pure white illumination through the small space. Calum's hips dug uncomfortably into the frame, his legs dangling in the air behind him as his elbows jutted down into the bed and his hands immediately reached out for (Y/n).
He cupped her face in his hands that were tremoring as he stared down at her with lips parted in horror and dark brown eyes that were already glossing over.
There was a large gash on her temple right in the centre and it was lathered in both fresh and dried blood ranging from vibrant fire truck red to dark crimson that was almost black where it had dried in clumps. Loose frays of hair had stuck and glued themselves into the cut, matted against the top and side of her head and there was clearly some swelling to her temple.
Calum narrowed his eyes, trying to work out whether there were any pieces of glass imbedded in the cut or stuck in her temple or her face anywhere, but in this lighting he couldn't tell. And if the fragments were small enough, then he wouldn't see them with all that dried blood, especially if they were stuck in deep.
His heart lurched up into his throat when (Y/n) groaned, nudging her face into his palm like she was seeking out the touch and comfort.
He watched her as she tried to open her eyes, but either there was a raging headache forming behind them or it was too much hard work, because they were only half-lidded in the end.
(Y/n) felt herself shaking when she curled her hands around Calum's bare forearms and gae a little tug as she tried to sit herself up. She was grateful to him as he shifted from cupping her face to holding onto her hips, shuffling her towards him to help her get out of the bunk.
Everything felt fine when she swung her legs over the side, but the moment (Y/n) was on her feet, all the blood drained down to her toes and her legs felt oddly hollow and weak. They shook like blades of grass in a summer breeze before quickly caving in, sending her crumpling down into a heap on the floor.
Calum's hands on her waist lifted her as she fell, softening the blow as he went down on his knees along with her.
She let her back slump up against the bottom of the bunk bed and her head flopped forward, feeling like it weighed a ton. One trembling hand let go of Calum's forearm to try and touch her head but the moment she did, electricity repelled her hand away and she gasped. Her eyes closed and she let the trembling take over as she caved in to the whimpers clawing at her chest from the pounding ache in her temple.
"What… what- did you, did you fall into the mirror or something? There could be glass in your head."
Once again Calum reached out for her face, cupping her features within his palms as he brushed her hair away with the tip of his finger to try and see better. He was as gentle as he could be when he tilted her head down to try and see the damage now that they were in a better light, but he still couldn't fathom whether there was any glass remaining in her wound or not.
"Baby."
(Y/n) took a sharp breath and forced her eyes to open so she could look up at Calum. He was close enough that she could feel each shallow breath he took and when she stared at him, she realised his eyes were watering. He was practically in tears just from seeing her in pain and fearing what had happened to her during the night.
Her hands cupped his wrists, clinging tight enough to bruise while she slowly looked to the right, towards the rest of the band. They were staring down at her with worry lighting up their eyes and concern plastered across their faces.
When she clocked Ashton stood further back than the others and she saw the light on in the toilet at the far end, realisation swept across her face.
"Oh, I, I thought it was a dream."
That did nothing to calm any of them down or provide them with some insight into what had happened.
When she squeezed his wrists as if to gain his attention, Calum leant in a bit closer, but he was unnerved by the glimmer of a smile that crept across (Y/n)'s lips. "I finally slept."
That was not comforting, and Calum couldn't smile at that. In fact he felt his jaw loosening again until he was sure his mouth was going to end up on the floor. She hadn't slept out of exhaustion or sleep-deprivation, she hadn't finally had a proper night's rest. She had slept because she had been hurt, she most likely knocked herself out with whatever happened in that bathroom during the night. That was no reason to smile.
"Yeah, 'cos you've probably got concussion."
A helpless look crossed his face and he glanced up over his left shoulder, staring at the others to try and get one of them to agree with him or say or do something to make this better. Because Calum didn't know what he was supposed to do now.
It was Luke who moved first, who sighed and rested his hand on Calum's shoulder so he could weave around them and jog towards the other door towards the main section of the bus.
"I'll tell them to pull over, get a medic from the other bus."
They had an entourage, another bus full of their stage crew and production team and their management, two vans with all their equipment and set productions in. A few people in their team were first-aid trained, one of them was going to have to come on here and give them a hand to check (Y/n) over. They might even need to divert to the nearest hospital and get her checked out in the emergency room.
"Is it bad?" The mellow, worried tone to (Y/n)'s voice made Calum's eyes widen and shoot straight back to her after watching Luke rush out.
He raised one hand to brush her hair back behind her ear, sinking his teeth down into his lower lip sharp enough to feel a tinge of blood welling up on his tongue. And he shook his head.
"No baby, you'll be alright."
"You might need to wear one of my bandanas for the next few shows though." Ashton commented quietly, earning a half-smile from (Y/n) and a sharp look from Calum.
It took some effort for (Y/n) to push her weight forwards but when she managed it, she turned her head and slumped her cheek against Calum's broad shoulder. She felt the warmth radiating off of him, probably worsened by the panic she had unintentionally created for him.
Her trembling hands curled around his right bicep, gluing his arm around her as she leant into his chest and let her burning eyes fall closed again.
She felt Calum's lips against the top of her head and hair while his right arm stayed bound around her middle and his left hand cradled her cheek. He didn't seem to notice that he was swaying them back and forth, but it worked in loosening some of the tension in his system.
"I've got you," he murmured into her hair, hoping this truly wasn't as bad as it had first looked.
Summary: When Andrew's little girl is born premature, he can't leave her in the neonatal unit on her own, not for a single night. So he makes sure he is always with her, so she knows she isn't alone.
Enjoy.
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Tilting his head back, Craig made a quick glance around the room as if he were at a restaurant or a bank that he was staking out for a future heist. The living room looked the same as it always did, nothing different and nothing to catch Craig's attention.
But it was the lack of someone that was making Craig's nerves bristle and had him feeling anxious.
When he saw Deran fishing around in his pocket for a smoke, Craig held his hand out, waggling one finger to motion that he wanted to pinch one. He felt a bit calmer with a cigarette clasped between his fingers, though that unease still crept over him.
"We need to bring Pope in on this, if he finds out we've done a job without him…" Craig trailed off, shaking his head at the mere thought of how their elder brother would react if he found out they had been planning a big job that he wasn't a part of.
They never did jobs without Pope, except for when he had been in prison for three years. Other than that, if they did a job, all of them were in on it. Smurf made sure of that. She wouldn't let them keep someone out of the group, like they were playing a game that she made sure they were all included in.
Jay and Deran had been the ones to plan this new job, and so far Craig had only seen Pope join in one of their chats. Now they had nailed down the minor details. Everything was set in stone, everywhere had been scoped out and checked and reassured. He hadn't mentioned it before, but now it was sinking in that Pope wasn't here.
He had been busy as of late, and Craig knew that Jay had kept Pope informed of what they were doing. He knew the basics but they couldn't go ahead with this without having him properly involved.
But when Craig glanced over at Jay who was perched on the arm rest of the sofa, he saw the teen shake his head.
"He won't want in."
"What?"
"Sure he will. Pope doesn't like to be left out, he'll think we're conspiring against him-"
"He won't do it." Jay shook his head again, darting his eyes up from his phone to look at Craig and Deran. "(Y/n)'s in hospital, they think she's going to have the baby. He won't leave her, not even for a job."
He read over the brief text he'd gotten from Pope this morning once again before he slid his phone back into his pocket.
Jay wasn't about to try and wrangle Pope into this job when he already knew it wasn't going to happen. Everyone knew that (Y/n) was Pope's everything. She was the only one who could calm him down, the one thing that grounded him, that stopped him from lashing out or doing something stupid.
His mind wouldn't be on the job this time, it would be on (Y/n) and they couldn't afford for him to be distracted. All he would want was to be with (Y/n), to know she and the baby were okay. So even if they did manage to wrangle him on this job, he would be a liability with his head not in the game.
When he looked up, Jay found both uncles staring at him with wide eyes and parted lips curled in shock.
"Already? That's… fuck, that's what, eight weeks early?" Deran tried to do the mental math, considering when (Y/n)'s due date was supposed to be and how far ahead that was from where they were now.
"Yep."
Both brothers looked at one another as they thought the same thing. If the hospital thought that (Y/n) was going to have the baby now, then their brother wasn't going to be anywhere but there by her side. He wouldn't leave (Y/n) now, not for all the money in the world.
Tiredness seemed to swarm through (Y/n)'s body like it was part of her blood that wouldn't stop circulating. She had been exhausted for hours, but sleep didn't seem to be an option at the moment. She couldn't remember when she'd last managed a few hours of sleep.
Not yesterday. Not since she had been admitted into the hospital, in fact, and that was almost three days ago.
Her bones felt like they had melted to sludge and (Y/n) was sure that if she tried to get up out of this chair, she would crumple to the floor like a used bit of tissue.
She didn't know how Andrew did it. She had absolutely no idea how her husband managed to go days without sleep and still be so wired, so in control and alert and properly 'with it' when he had no rest. It was as if Andrew were a robot who only needed to sit down for a few moments at a time to regain his energy.
Of course, he had settled down and mellowed out a lot since (Y/n) first met him. She knew his bed in his old apartment had barely been used, he slept that rarely and he could never get a full night's rest. When they moved in together, he was almost a different person when it came to sleep.
It was how (Y/n) knew when something was bothering him. Normally, he would manage a good few hours of sleep and even if he was awake, Andrew would just lie peacefully staring at the ceiling or he would read something with the dim lamp light to sustain him. If (Y/n) ever found him sat downstairs staring at a blank tv screen, or methodically cleaning the entire house, if he didn't bother going to bed and ended up not trying to sleep, then she knew something was bothering him.
Right now, all (Y/n) wanted to do was manage a few hours of sleep. She would settle for twenty minutes if she could, but her mind wasn't going to settle just yet.
The events of the last few days were still buzzing around in her mind and she couldn't fathom how to stop them and make herself rest.
She knew the exhaustion must be showing on her face, she half expected her eyes to be sunken into her skull by now and bloodshot and horrid.
But when (Y/n) glanced to her right and locked eyes on Andrew, her heart buzzed with adrenaline and love and tingling nerves all at once. He seemed to look at her as if she were the only person in the world worth being around, the only person he had any love and affection and time for.
He wasn't looking at her as if she were a horrid, drained sight to behold, but as if she were the most beautiful person he had ever admired.
Leaning to the right, (Y/n) carefully laid her head on Andrew's shoulder and managed to close her eyes for a few moments, though she knew she wasn't about to fall asleep or catch much rest. Not that it mattered, not right at this moment anyway.
She liked how close he was right now. He had barely moved an inch away from her side other than to go to the bathroom or get a drink, and even then, it was everyone around him prompting and reminding him that he needed to eat and drink. Otherwise (Y/n) was sure he wouldn't have remembered or bothered at all.
Andrew was sat on the very edge of his chair that had been pulled up as close as he could get it to (Y/n)'s seat. He had his right arm leaning on the arm rest of her seat, his fingers softly tapping the chair while his other hand was stretched out so his hand could rest on her thigh that he kept squeezing every minute or so. As if making sure she knew he was still here.
Every so often, he would tilt his head down and press a soft kiss to her shoulder.
He couldn't turn his head in any direction, he couldn't look away. Not when there was a tiny, delicate frame curled up on her chest.
Their little girl.
Their baby, their first child, born eight weeks before her due date making hehr tiny enough that she barely fit in both Andrew's cupped hands when he tried to hold her.
Andrew stayed quiet as he admired the tiny form curled up on (Y/n)'s chest. Commiting each feature to memory, how she had her tiny spindly legs tucked up towards her tummy. How tiny her hands were as they curled into small fists and rested peacefully against (Y/n)'s bare skin. How paper thin her skin looked which made Andrew feel tense whenever he held her because the last thing he wanted to do was hurt his little girl.
The tiny knitted hat over her head barely fit the palm of Andrew's hand, and it sparkled like a bright white star in the illuminating lights.
He had never seen such tiny nappies as the one Bella was wearing. It was the kind of thing he imagined was sold in toy shops for baby dolls. Something that Lena would play with and make out of craft material. Not something suitable or big enough for a real baby.
There was a breathing tube taped to the side of Bella's cheek to keep it in place, so she couldn't pull the tube from where it was tucked up her nose. That tube made Andrew's teeth grate each time he looked at it, because it shouldn't be necessary that his baby was on oxygen. And he hated to see her be fed small ounces of milk through another tube in her nose.
Andrew couldn't seem to stop staring, as if he thought his daughter was going to disappear if he blinked for a second too long.
He had been admiring her, watching over her, keeping vigil at her side since she had been born yesterday morning. He didn't want her out of his sights, not for any reason in the world.
"Hey, how are we doin' in here?"
(Y/n) lifted her head from Andrew's shoulder, her eyes quickly moving to focus on the door to the small room they were happily secluded in.
It was Deran.
There was a small, lopsided smile on his face beneath the scruff of beard coating his skin and his eyes creased with the smile. He nudged the door shut behind him with his boot and crossed the room until he was in front of them both.
He leant down, curving one arm loosely over the back of (Y/n)'s shoulders as he bent oer and gently pulled her into a sideways hug. When his eyes locked with his brother, he gave a small nod of acknowledgement and reached out to clap his hand on Andrew's shoulder before he pulled back.
"Hi," (Y/n) smiled softly up at him, her eyes following him as he moved to perch on the windowsil to her left rather than kneeling on the floor or going to grab another chair from a different room and trapse it in here.
"Just you?" Andrew looked towards the door as if to make sure no one else was about to enter the room. And when Deran hummed in agreement, a small but satisfied "Good." left his lips.
"These are for you," looking down into the bag he'd brought along with him, Deran rummaged around and retrieved the bag of sweets and pack of cookies which he held out to show (Y/n).
"You remembered."
There was a hint of surprise in (Y/n)'s voice and a smile on her lips so sweet that Deran held his breath. Sometimes it was still a shock to have such a sincere reaction whenever he did something thoughtful or meaningful.
Back when he lived at home with Smurf, there was always a catch to everything. They got apple pie when they did a good haul on a job. They got money to tide them over when theirs ran low, her way of making them rely on her. They got gifts whenever Smurf wanted them on her side and the amount of times she guilt tripped them for one reason or another made them feel bad any time they did something thoughtful for her.
Sometimes it felt like they were all still waiting for a catch, for a harsh word or a sharp look when they did something kind.
"I did, thought you could use a pick me up. And, these are for her… the bits the rest of us picked out already are gonna be too big, these are the smallest I could find."
Putting the sweets on the small table behind (Y/n), he fished back around in the bag to produce three tiny baby grows, and then a little pair of shoes.
Him, Craig and Jay had already gotten a few bits put together last month in preparation for when the baby was supposed to be born. But everything they had gotten was for a newborn, not a premature baby, nothing would fit their little niece.
So Deran had took it upon himself to go to the store this morning to get some smaller items he hoped would fit his niece. He couldn't come down here empty-handed, and he figured it would help since Andrew would have to make a trip to the store for more things to fit his daughter until she could grow into everything he had already bought for her.
Deran had an inkling that Smurf had already thrown some items together and gotten some bits when she heard (Y/n) had given birth. Though he wasn't sure his brother would be too pleased about that.
(Y/n) could feel her eyes glossing over as she looked at the items Deran held out to show her before he put them neatly back into the plastic bag and set it on the floor next to her chair.
"That's- that's lovely, thank you." Her throat felt tight and dry, barely managing to get the words out without letting a small sob follow them.
(Y/n) was grateful to have them rallying around her. She was more than grateful to Deran for getting these things for her and coming to visit; she just wished it wasn't all necessary.
She had been inconsolable when the midwife told her she was going into labour and they couldn't prevent it without risking the baby. She didn't want to have her daughter early, to watch her suffer and hae to remain in the hospital for weeks before she could be taken home to be with her family.
This wasn't the scenario (Y/n) had in her mind when she got pregnant, this hadn't been part of the plan.
Deran sat forward until he was almost toppling off the windowsil, his hands now clasped together in between his parted knees. He inclined his head and leant over to try and catch a better glimpse of the little girl snuggled up against (Y/n)'s chest.
It hadn't dawned on him until now that (Y/n) must be having skin contact, a way to try and make a connection and make sure her baby knew exactly who she was. For (Y/n) was sat wearing just a pair of maternity leggings and her bra, with the newborn resting peacefully on her otherwise bare chest.
"So this is the little lady, do you have a name yet?"
"Bella." Andrew was the one who answered, both his hands now clamped together and pressed into his chin while his elbows dug uncomfortably into the wooden arm rest of (Y/n)'s chair.
"Cute." Deran smiled wider and tried to get a better glimpse of the little girl. "God, she's so small," he cooed, his eyes locking with (Y/n)'s. "Can I?"
When his eyes darted between the couple, he realised that (Y/n) was smiling, an encouraging look in her eyes that always made Deran feel at ease around her. It had always been hard to relax around people who knew what they did for a living and accept people into their family, but it had been surprisingly easy with (Y/n).
And then there was Andrew, who looked at his brother with that stern frown line set into his temple, his narrowed eyes like piercing knives that cut through the younger Cody brother. The set of Andrew's jaw was tight, showing his teeth were ground together and the point of his jaw made him look like he had been carved out of stone.
"Of course," (Y/n) nodded and carefully cupped the back of Bella's head to keep her stable on her chest as she sat forwards, straightening up.
"Not for long. She needs to get used to us." It didn't look like Andrew wanted to agree at all, but he was hardly going to argue with (Y/n), and his brother seemed rather eager. He wasn't sure if Deran had been this eager to hold or be around Lena when she was born.
But then again, Baz had always made things complicated. He had always been the leader, the one who took charge even when it wasn't truly his place, and none of them apart from Andrew had been close to Kath.
Deran pushed off the windowsil and hovered beside (Y/n), hands delicately waiting to take hold of the newborn and feel how light she was in his embrace.
Despite seeing how tiny Bella was in (Y/n)'s arms, it was still a surprise to Deran when she was placed in his hands and he felt like he was hoding a cushion, not a tiny life like this. He cradled Bella to his chest, his thumb smoothing over the back of her head near the woolen hat placed neatly on her head.
He looked up with a smile, only to suddenly find that his eldest brother was sitting up as straight as a plank of wood in his seat. Hands braced on his thighs, shoulders tense, expression as firm as stone and eyes dead set on his brother.
"Pope, I won't drop her. I swear."
This didn't seem to do much to calm Andrew down, though the tension in his shoulders did drop a little as he saw that his brother was indeed being careful and wasn't about to drop the precious newborn.
(Y/n) dropped her head back onto Andrew's shoulder, leaning into him until she felt him relax a little and his breathing mellowed down again. She felt his hand snake across to cup her thigh once again as they both watched Deran grin and coo down at their little girl.
"So, how long's she in here for?" Deran mused after a few minutes as he stood beside (Y/n)'s chair. Making sure he didn't move too far from her or the incubator in front of them, though he did sway from left to right as he held his niece against his lower chest.
"Around five weeks minimum, but we can be here whenever we want. And we can be in the mother and baby unit for the last week, to learn how to feed her through a nose tube… and CPR." (Y/n) grimaced at the mere thought but when she looked up at Deran, she found him staring down at her with a tense, scrunched expression.
"What?"
"It's just to be safe, apparently all parents with preemie's need to know how, in case they have breathing problems."
"Huh."
It was a skill they would hopefully never have to use, and by the time they got Bella home, she should be feeding properly and not through a nose tube anymore. But they had to learn how, in case she was still sick and needed the tube, and the CPR was in case she had problems breathing and ended up needing to be rushed back. It was better to know how and not need the skills than to have an emergency and not know what to do.
After a little while of immerseive chatter and idle conversation, Deran crouched back down beside (Y/n)'s chair and carefully eased the little girl into her waiting arms.
He could feel his brother's eyes watching him intently, as if he were timing the contact and Deran was sure if he hadn't of handed Bella over already, his brother would have made a point of telling him his time holding her was up.
He could see Andrew relaxing, like he thought he could finally breathe now that Bella was back in (Y/n)'s arms.
"I'll come visit again soon, with Craig."
"Thanks for coming."
***
He couldn't settle. That had been evident from the moment he stepped through the front door.
He walked out of the bathroom, bare feet itching and tingling against the soft carpet that felt far too soft and comforting beneath his feet. He didn't want comfort; he wasn't the one who needed comforting, for any reason.
His hands clenched into fists at his sides until his knuckles turned white and the skin ached and the bones grated beneath the layers of skin and muscle. The veins were prominent and bulging on the backs of his hands, so close that one snip across the skin would release the de-oxygenated blood from their grasp.
Droplets of water trickled down the back of Andrew's neck, falling from his hair that had sprung up into curls in every direction. He could feel the water tracing down his skin like beads of sweat after a fight, and it made him want to itch and scratch at his skin until he was red raw.
The shower had done nothing to make him feel better. It didn't soothe him, it didn't lessen the thoughts swirling around in his mind. It didn't take the tension from his muscles and make him drowsy enough to lie in bed and rest. He couldn't rest. He didn't want to even if he would have been able.
Three steps down the hall had him stopping in his tracks and looking towards the door on his right that was slightly ajar.
The door to the nursery. A room that wasn't in use yet and wasn't going to be for at least another four weeks, maybe longer depending on Bella's progress and recovery. His girl wasn't in there where she should have been, she wasn't safe and sound within (Y/n) where she still should be, waiting for her due date to be born.
And now she was alone, hidden away in an incubator in the hospital, with no family around her to watch over her or protect her. And Andrew was here, at home, without her.
A gruff noise vibrated through his throat as he turned away from the door and stormed further down the hall until he reached the bedroom.
With more irritation and a heavy-handed manner than necessary, Andrew snatched his shirt from the chair in the corner of the room and pulled it over his head. Ignoring the lounge wear set of shirt and shorts that were laid out on the end of the bed for him. He wasn't getting changed into those, because he wouldn't be relaxing or sleeping in bed tonight.
He found a pair of trousers and shrugged them on, tightening the belt until his hips ached, and then he wrangled on a pair of socks, balancing expertly on one foot at a time.
He could still hear the midwife's voice in the back of his head. "You can both come here anytime you like and be with her. Don't ever think you can't, there's no visiting limitations here."
His eyes darted to the clock on the bedside table, but his mind was already made up. He wasn't staying here; he was going back.
Though his little girl wouldn't leave his mind, something within his chest relaxed just a little when he looked towards the bed once he was dressed and ready.
With his phone and keys from the bedside table stuffed into his back pocket, Andrew gently sat on the side of the bed and leant over. His arm curved over (Y/n), hand settling on her middle with his chest curving and arching over her back.
He tucked his face into the crook of her neck and shoulder, breathing softly and slowly until he felt his hammering pulse begin to calm down and he felt somewhat in control of himself and his emotions again. His lips parted just enough to press a delicate, hollow kiss to (Y/n)'s throat, a touch he knew she wouldn't register because she was finally sleeping.
He was glad. He was glad (Y/n) was finally getting some rest, that she had been able to fall asleep. Her exhaustion wasn't the same as his, Andrew had years of pushing through it, of being able to go days without sleep. (Y/n) didn't, and he wanted her to sleep and rest and feel better so she wasn't run down when she went to stay with Bella.
They had been at the hospital all day, they had only come home because the midwife had ushered them out to get some rest and something to eat. The intention was to come home, get some dinner, a quick shower and then get some sleep. They could go back to the hospital anytime they wanted.
Andrew had eaten. He'd gotten a shower and a change of clothes. He was recharged and ready to stay with Bella again. (Y/n) just needed a bit more rest first.
His eyes glossed over when he opened them and realised what (Y/n) was cuddling to her chest. A soft, pale woollen blanket; a tiny one that was barely bigger than a tea towel. A blanket specifically for preemies, ones that were supposed to comfort both mother and baby because it would smell of either or both of them. If it was with Bella, it would have (Y/n)'s scent- just like the blanket currently draped over Bella back in the hospital- and she would think she was still with her mum. And now it was with (Y/n), it had Bella's scent, so she didn't feel so far away and disconnected from her baby.
With his lips still muffled against her neck, he managed to whisper a soft "Love you," against (Y/n)'s neck before he unravelled himself from around her.
He was careful not to make any noise when he climbed off the bed and aimed towards the door. He didn't want to wake her. She needed rest, and he needed to go watch over their baby.
She had been right in her assumptions. Here he was.
Smurf's mouth formed into a pointed, pinched shape as she leant against the slightly ajar door, arms crossed over her chest with her head angled to one side.
It was late into the night, she had passed by Andrew's house with the intention of going in and checking on her eldest, but his truck wasn't there. It didn't take many guesses or assumptions to figure out where he had gone to, and this had been her second guess. And here he was.
He looked different, so unlike himself as he sat there like a statue, so rigid it was as if he had been cast in wax and was unable to move in any direction. Usually he would slouch a bit, part his knees to the side, holds his hands clasped together between his thighs if he didn't know what to do with himself.
Right now, Andrew was sat with his back straight like he was being held up against a ruler, shoulders broad and tense. His frame was brisk and rigid, with one hand resting on his thigh, but he had his right arm stretched forward in front of him with his hand resting on the small life residing in the incubator he was staring at like it was his favourite tv show.
"Hey baby, thought I'd find you here."
One small glance over his shoulder was all Andrew allocated to Smurf before his attention was placed fully on his daughter once again.
His finger was resting neatly in the palm of her small hand, and every now and then he would brush his thumb across the back of her hand. It was strange trying to get used to how her skin felt, as if he were brushing tissue paper that was a second away from shredding apart. Warm, soft, but completely breakable and at his mercy.
He didn't bother giving Smurf an answer, it didn't seem like there was anything he could reply with anyway. He hadn't asked her to come here, he didn't want her here.
Andrew was here to stay with his daughter, to keep her company and make sure she wasn't alone. He didn't need Smurf here trying to coax him away or engage him in small talk. He didn't need her thinking she had to do anything for him or that she had to look out for him. He didn't want that; he didn't want her.
His upper lip curled when he sensed her approaching and he felt her hand resting on his shoulder. It was almost like a handcuff on him, something to restrain him, to hold him back like she always did.
"You should get some rest, it's late. Isn't (Y/n) at home waiting for you?" Her voice was soft, but her tone was suggestive, as if she were trying to give him an order rather than a suggestion.
"She needs to rest, I don't."
Andrew was glad (Y/n) was home, that she was sleeping and resting and recouperating ready to come back in the morning and be with Bella. She couldn't look after Bella if she was exhausted and drained herself.
"You need to sleep baby-"
"I can't sleep." He snapped through gritted teeth with a jaw pointed like the sharpened blade of a knife.
His head twisted to the right and he looked up at Smurf with narrowed eyes that held a shimmer to them, an edge of danger, a sheen of violence that couldn't be washed away. But just as quickly as the look appeared, it vanished the moment Andrew's head twisted back and he was looking back down at his little girl again. And he began to glide his thumb across her hand in a soothing repetitive manner that worked on fading the anger from his system within seconds.
"I can't sleep, and I can't sit and do nothing when Bella needs me here. Someone needs to watch over her, she has to have someone with her."
There was an air of urgency within Andrew's otherwise serious and concentrated tone of voice. His left hand stretched out and planted against his thigh like he was trying to make his point clearer, wanting to lash out to get the point across.
How could he sit at home, how could he relax or try and sleep when his mind kept telling him that his daughter was all alone? What else was he supposed to do except come here and be with her? This was where he was supposed to be, no one could try and tell him otherwise.
His eyes watched his mother carefully when she sank down into the seat beside him, her hand still resting on his shoulder. She dropped her bag onto her lap and leant towards him like she was about to try and reel him into a hug or offer some form of comfort.
"The midwives are here," her voice was calm, but it was that same tone Andrew had heard all his life. That tone when Smurf tried to reason with him, when she tried to get him to listen to her and do her bidding.
Though when Smurf glanced towards the incubator, there was a glimmer in her eyes as she took in her grand daughter. "She looks settled, peaceful."
Andrew huffed, he couldn't help it. He shrugged off Smurf's touch from his shoulder and leant forward, his finger still encased in Bella's grip and the back of his hand brushing her chest.
"That's because she knows I'm here. Those midwives, they're busy, they have all the other babies to look after. Not Bella, she needs her family, she needs to know I'm here and I'm not gonna leave her alone in this place. I'm not leaving her on her own."
He was adamant, his tone certain and unchanging as the sun.
The midwives weren't the same, they weren't family. They weren't the people who would be looking after Bella when she left this place, they weren't the ones who were supposed to be caring for her if she hadn't of been born this early.
It wasn't their jobs to watch over his daughter, they were here to give checks, to do changes and feeds and give medicine when Andrew or (Y/n) weren't there. They weren't able to sit beside Bella and watch over her the entirety of their shifts. She would be alone, and Andrew didn't want that.
He knew she wouldn't remember in years to come, she wouldn't know she had ever been here alone. But right now, she would. She would sense it, she would cry and no one would be there to hold her close and brush away those tears and show her she was loved, she was cared for, she was being watched over by someone.
She knew he was here. She knew her dad was here, she was gripping his hand and she would know his scent. Bella had been having skin contact with both parents, she knew their scent, she felt their heartbeats when she laid with them. She knew that right now, her dad was right there beside her.
Andrew would either hold her hand or have her laid on his chest throughout the night so she knew she was never going to be alone. He was never going to leave her here.
Andrew had been left during his life. Smurf left him with shitty boyfriends or dodgy friends who were far too unreliable to be around children. She had left Andrew in charge of his siblings before he was the right age to care for them alone. He had been left in foster care more than once, unsure if his mum would ever be coming back for him, if anyone cared or loved him enough to fight for him and bring him home.
He would be damned if he was going to hae his daughter feel even a fraction of abandonment like he had during his life.
"Go home Smurf. I'm fine right here."
Sleep had always been an issue for Andrew ever since he was a child, but it was worse now that Bella was here and she was separate from them, that she wasn't at home with her parents where she should be. Whenever he tried to sleep or whenever he went home without her, his mind exploded.
Bella wasn't there with them, she wasn't in the nursery where she belonged. It was all Andrew could think about, it was everything he dwelled on until finally he gave up and found his way back here, back to his baby girl.
Inclining forwards in his seat, Andrew pushed his hand further into the incubator and very carefully slid his hand out of Bella's tepid grasp. He brushed the back of his finger along her cheek before resting his palm on her chest. Feeling the soft rise and fall motion, something silent but whole-heartedly reassuring for him because she was here, she was alright, she was safe.
He would keep vigil by her side until she was able to leave this place, that was his silent promise to her.
***
All the tension left (Y/n)'s body the moment she stepped through the doors and looked around the room. Her lips curved into a grin so bright it made her cheeks hurt, and she felt like her heart was trying to break free from her chest.
There he was, just where she knew he would be when she woke up during the early morning and realised she was alone in bed, that the other half of the bed hadn't been laid or slept in at all. She didn't panic; (Y/n) knew if Andrew wasn't with her, then the only other place he would be was at their daughter's side.
And here he was.
Slouched in the foam chair, not sitting as straight and rigid as a plank of wood like he usually was.
His knees were spread wide and parted to the sides with his feet planted firmly on the floor, not even jittering an inch; he looked the calmest (Y/n) had seen him in a long while.
He was shirtless, the thin button up shirt he wore when he arrived was neatly folded and laid over the back of the opposite chair; forever neat and tidy, no matter where Andrew might be in the world.
His broad muscles and arms were out on display, though they held no tension or threat like when he was in the boxing ring. His curls were puffed up and tangled all around his head like they hadn't seen a comb in days, but it only made (Y/n)'s heart beat quicker. And right there, settled in the centre of Andrew's warm chest, was Bella.
The newborn was snuggled up with her knees close to her tummy, her cheek nestled comfortingly against Andrew's sternum with one tiny palm planted down on his chest like she was reassuring herself she could hear his heartbeat beneath her. She was gaining that skin contact, that warmth and scent she needed to associate with her parent, with someone she could love and trust and be protected by.
(Y/n) walked towards her little family, towards the scene that was flooding her chest with so much love and warmth.
Once she reached the chair she slowly bent at the knees until she was crouched down beside them with one hand on Andrew's arm, and the other cupped softly over his warm cheek. The touch seemed to break him out of the spell he had cast himself in, and his thin lips morphed into a grin when he realised she was here.
She wasted no time in dipping her head forward and capturing Andrew's lips in a surprised kiss, stealing the air from his lungs in the process.
"You two look cosy."
There was no need to ask if Andrew had been here all night, because (Y/n) knew the answer already, and it made her heart swell to the point of bursting.
When she rested her temple against his and closed her eyes, Andrew took the time to study her features, to see that she looked better, brighter, rested, more than she had looked the previous night.
(Y/n) ghosted her lips over his and murmured "Thank you." against his mouth which caught him by surprise.
"What for?" He searched her eyes when they finally opened and their gazes intertwined. He hadn't done anything that he needed to be thanked for, and Andrew never asked for thanks or gratitude no matter what he did, especially if it was something he did for (Y/n). He would do anything for her, no questions asked, no thanks needed.
"For staying with her, so she wasn't alone, and so I could sleep."
hellloooo do you have separate tag lists or one big one?
Hello,
I do have separate tag lists, such as one for 911, one for The Pitt, one for 5sos and some people for pope Cody.
Is there a specific one you’d like to be tagged onto?
I will warn you sometimes I do forget to add people or add you onto posts you might not be interested in as I copy and paste the taglists or else it would take me hours to add everyone separately. But I try my best to only add people to the fandoms they ask for.
hii pls put me on your tag list as you write for a lot of fandoms im in :))) love your work!! thank you for spending your time writing fics for people like us 🩷
Ooh hi yay!
I will make sure to out you on the taglist. And your very welcome it makes me so happy to post and receive any feedback and to know people are enjoying what fics roll around in my mind
Hello!! i’ve been having this idea lately and i can’t stop thinking about it…. it’s angsty but really sweet… reader and ashton were in the middle of being intimate when reader maybe zones out or just doesn’t feel the same anymore (maybe due to a trigger, maybe something else) and she’s just kinda not there with ashton and half expects to just have him continue but he notices the second she zones out and stops everything and that brings her back and she looks at him like ? why’d you stop? and he’s dumbfounded and they have a long talk about her past (maybe she was used to way worse in the bedroom) and ashton assures her all sweetly that he’d always stop and always check in and be attentive and never ever hurt her :’)) i just see so many smutty fics but as someone who’s had trauma i feel like this type of fic is so important but barely talked about at all… sorry if this is too much, ignore me!! but thank you if you decide to do something with this :)
Hello!
As soon as I read this, this morning I couldn't stop thinking about it. I loved this idea! I think this is the quickest I have ever written an imagine and I hardly ever write and post a request the same day it gets sent in but I thought this idea deserved to be posted as soon as possible.
I get what you mean, this is something important to write and flesh out. I used one of my own triggers in the imagine as for a long time I couldn't stand anyone touching the back of my head, whether an intimate act or not dur to past experiences.
I hope this turned out how you wanted it, I'm not used to writing or alluding to sex/ intimacy but I thought I'd give this a go for you because I loved the request.
Summary: During an intimate moment, Ashton unintentionally triggers some bad memories for (Y/n). So they stop and have a heart to heart and make a few promises.
(Mentions of past abusive behaviours. Mentions of sex, not really smut)
Enjoy.
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That feeling, that one simple flicker of movement, was enough to bring (Y/n) crashing down from the clouds she had been absorbed in.
(Y/n) wasn't too sure where her mind had been before that touch seemed to electrify something within her; she had been in a million different places all at once. Focusing on the feeling of her right hand that was laced through with Ashton's, sweat suctioning their palms together. Feeling the way his chest rose and fell above hers and how each time he seemed to remember he needed to breathe and took a deep breath, she felt the comforting feel of his weight over her.
She could feel each nerve ending within her that was sparkling like a fire cracker and intensified with the heat her body was producing and giving off like she were laid on top of hot coals. (Y/n) could hear the soft feather-down pillow creasing and making a soft crunching noise with each feather moving every time she pressed her head back or shifted her weight slightly.
She could feel the welcomed burning in her hips from parting her knees to the sides to accomodate Ashton lying in between her legs. The light tapping against the end of the mattress where she was sure either his foot or simply a toe was moving and tapping in a small way of grounding and regulating himself. Always moving, always a little tremor somewhere within him whether he knew it or not.
There were dozens of other feelings and sensations that split (Y/n)'s mind and took her attention, and she revelled in each one.
Right up until that new flickering movement snapped something within her mind. Then there was nothing to focus on but that one touch. Nothing else came close, nothing else mattered.
Nothing else grounded her attention like that feeling. That movement of Ashton's hand that had previously been somewhere near her bare hip, previously holding onto her hip or tracing the dip in her waist or running up the side of her chest.
Now his hand snook past her shoulder and ghosted against the back of her neck, shifting into the small gap between her head and the pillow.
(Y/n) didn't know what he wanted to do, whether he was trying to ground himself to her, to hold onto another part of her- since her right hand was interlaced with his left- or just draw patterns on her skin or run his touch all over her body. She had no idea what he was doing, but his intentions didn't matter.
His warm, slightly damp fingers ran across the back of her neck and caught on a loose tendril of hair near the base of her skull.
It was enough to break something within (Y/n)'s mind.
Her eyes opened again, but her gaze was blurred, eyes unable to focus on anything around her. She could barely see Ashton and the halo of light that curved around him and always made him look like an angel to her. She couldn't see the flushed tint of red blotching his skin. She couldn't see how he was biting on his lower lip or make out the outline of his thick pointed shoulders that always made her think of rulers or shelves with how straight and tense they were.
Her head gave the slightest movement to the right, barely a centimetre difference in angle, and her blurry eyes seemed to latch onto a spot above Ashton's shoulder. A patch of wallpaper that was distant enough to have the pattern blurring into a mesh of beige and cream colours before her.
(Y/n) didn't have any choice in where she looked or what she was looking at, because she wasn't trying to find something to stare at. Her eyes locked onto that patch of wall and as soon as they did, her mind was gone. Drifting off, leaving the room, thoughts and memories and a strange sense of numbness crawling all through her head.
Everything else within her felt disconnected, like she had flipped a switch and put her body on pause.
No signals seemed to be reaching her brain. No sensations coming through anymore, not the heat surrounding her and that her body was giving off, not the pins and needles in her lower leg or the way her stomach had been fluttering just seconds earlier. Even her ears seemed to have tuned out and let in a white noise like she was a tv that had been turned on standby.
It would wear off soon. (Y/n) knew it would, it always did. In a minute, a quarter of an hour, an hour maybe. It always wore off in the end, sometimes it lingered even after the sex ended, but it would always fade eventually. It just took a while.
Ashton shuddered. His eyes opened quickly, trying to decipher what that sudden change was that he felt, and what it meant.
It was (Y/n). Her left hand that was on his shoulder, it wasn't moving anymore. He had been grounded by that touch, by the feeling of her fingers tracing patterns against his shoulder or how she would tap a rhythm out against his skin. Sometimes her hand dipped further down and pressed against his back or traced the dip of his spine, feeling how it shifted and bent when he moved.
Her hand wasn't moving at all now, her fingers were poised on his skin like she had turned to a wax figurine or was posing as still as possible for a portrait.
That was when his breathing hitched at the tightness in his left hand. His eyes darted down, locking onto the spot where their entwined hands were resting comfortably on the mattress. (Y/n) was squeezing the life out of his hand, she was gripping so tight that his knuckles and the back of his hand had turned a pasty shade of white with barely any trace of soft pink or pale red left.
The blood had been squeezed out of his hand that was almost spasming in her tight grip, and where her fingers had turned to stone and were pushing down in between his knuckles, her nails were digging in too. She was creating crescent moons in the back of his hand and despite the lack of blood to his hand, the skin was starting to tear and he expected small droplets to arise at any moment.
It almost felt like she was trying to tell him something, trying to give him a secret message that he couldn't decode or work out.
That was when he looked down at her, properly looked, eyes coming back into focus and constricting as he tried to take her in and see what was going on.
She looked frozen.
His teeth released his lip that pulsed and throbbed now that the blood was returning, and his mouth hung open slightly as he looked down at (Y/n).
There was a strange, distant look in her eyes that Ashton didn't like. It made him think that her mind was suddenly so far away, like there was thousands of miles in between them. Despite how close they actually were and how they were physically entwined.
It was like she wasn't here with him at all.
His blood ran cold at that thought, all the heat fading from his burning skin that now felt frozen and tense and tight. His eyes narrowed and his stomach tensed as he realised that (Y/n) wasn't even looking up at him anymore.
She seemed to be staring at something behind him- or above him, he couldn't quite tell- her eyes were simply zoned out, aimed at something over his left shoulder. He wasn't sure that (Y/n) was actually looking at anything in particular, to him her eyes looked spaced, like they were staring but not really seeing.
The kind of way he was when he was zoning out in the studio trying to create lyrics, and his mind took him on a journey. Or when a specific memory from his childhood came to mind and suddenly he couldn't see the room in front of him, but the memory, clear as day playing out before his eyes, transporting him to a different time and place. He would stare, but he wouldn't see or take in anything. That was how (Y/n) looked to Ashton right now.
A deep frown etched into Ashton's features and he stopped.
His hips ached as he pushed his weight down onto his knees, feeling like he was sinking into the mattress in between (Y/n)'s thighs. He shifted his left arm a little, keeping his hand locked in (Y/n)'s grip that she didn't seem to be able to release even if she wanted to. But he moved his arm so that some of his weight was resting on his elbow.
The last thing he wanted to do was bring (Y/n) back to reality by letting all his weight crush down on her or make her feel trapped underneath him.
Deep breaths raged past his lips and made his shoulders heave whilst he lowered his head a little so that he was closer to her, more in her distant line of sight.
"Hey…" his right hand that had been somewhere between her neck and the pillow, reached out until he could trace his finger along her cheek.
He dragged the digit down her jaw, tracing the bone underneath and feeling the softness of her skin. He dragged his index finger back up towards her cheek before going back down towards her chin. He was trying his best to gain her attention without frightening her or shocking her back to reality, because clearly her mind wasn't here with him anymore.
It was as if a light had been switched on in her mind. Ashton watched in apprehension and slight wonder as (Y/n) blinked, and suddenly those distant, blown pupils were constricting and coming back into focus. Finally, she was looking up at him instead of somewhere behind him and he knew she could see him, she was back in the room again.
"Why'd you stop?"
Her voice was so quiet that Ashton was sure he had misheard her altogether and he took a few seconds to stare down at her, brows raised as he stared down at her like he didn't recognise her at all.
"Wh- really?" Shock entwined in his voice and must have crossed his face because (Y/n) looked surprised. "Baby, it didn't exactly look like you were with me. Where'd you go just then?"
He could see the wheels turning in (Y/n)'s mind, putting two and two together and realising that Ashton had noticed her zoning out, he noticed her mind wandering off and leaving the room they were in. Leaving him behind, leaving the intimacy they had been previously been locked in.
She took a moment to gather her thoughts, to try and piece them together, as if she didn't even know where her mind had gone or why.
"I… I don't know." (Y/n) tried to smile, but she could see that it didn't work and that her words did nothing to calm Ashton down because his expression still looked frightened.
He was looking at her like she was hurt, like he had witnessed her getting hurt but she was trying to tell him that she was completely fine.
That answer wasn't comforting to Ashton, not at all. He stared down at her, waiting for more words, for an explanation so he knew whether to start panicking or to laugh and try to calm down. He got nothing. Just those beautiful, encapsulated eyes watching him like he was the one who needed to say something, that he needed to lead so (Y/n) knew what to do next.
Adrenaline sparked to life in (Y/n)'s stomach when "Okay," suddenly sighed past Ashton's lips and he was moving.
He was moving away from her, pulling out, shuffling back like he was about to climb off the bed and leave.
(Y/n) felt her heart thunder in her chest and the air seemed to clog in her throat and stop her breathing as she watched him, suddenly afraid she had upset him. But he didn't go far.
He shifted to his left so he was no longer laid in between (Y/n)'s thighs, letting his weight rest on his left hip that was pushing down into the mattress now. His right arm carefully laid across (Y/n)'s middle as if letting her know that he was still here, still holding onto her, still close and connected in some manner.
His left elbow dug down into the pillow to push himself up so he wasn't fully laid down on his front, allowing him to look down at (Y/n) rather than lying on his chest and staring up at her.
Ashton waited patiently for (Y/n) to move, for her to shuffle up a bit so she was propped up against the pillows instead of lying flat. They could talk better this way, they could see one another as they spoke.
"Talk to me," he coaxed gently, tracing his fingers over her hip which made (Y/n) lean into him because he knew that touch tickled.
He needed to know what just happened, what it meant and why she had suddenly drifted off like that. Because although (Y/n) didn't seem to know where her mind had wandered off to, Ashton was sure, he could feel it in his bones, that she knew exactly why she had just zoned out. And he wanted to know why too.
(Y/n) couldn't quite meet his gaze, and that set off an alarm within his chest. Her eyes seemed to be intently focused on the darkly inked star on the underside of his right bicep. It was right within her eyeline when she tilted her head down because of how his arm was strewn across her bare chest.
It was easier not to look at him as she spoke. "When you touched the back of my neck, I- I don't know, it just made me think," the rest of the words didn't seem to want to come to light.
She didn't know why she was telling him this. It didn't matter, not really. She was alright, she had stopped zoning out now, she was back and they could carry on having sex. They didn't have to talk, but (Y/n) could see in Ashton's eyes that he wouldn't let this go. He wasn't going to move in any direction until they'd had this conversation.
"Think of what?" He prompted gently, continuing to trace her hip because he knew a small bit of touch like this would ground (Y/n), it would give her something to focus on so they could keep talking.
"When Max used to do that, sometimes to- to make me shut up. He had a bruising grip."
Again, (Y/n) couldn't find it within herself to look up at him. Her gaze focused intently on that star on Ashton's arm. Such a plain design, nothing intricate like some of the other tattoos he had, but it was the perfect image to lose her thoughts in and it was easy to look at. Easy for her eyes to zone out even if her mind stayed right here, having this conversation with him.
(Y/n) knew why that touch had set her mind spiralling. She knew it was because for a split second, it reminded her of something she used to feel, a memory she wanted to keep repressed.
It reminded her of the way her ex used to be with her during sex. It made her think of the times when his hand would grab the back of her neck, for a variety of reasons. To clutch her skin until bruises appeared that would have to be hidden behind her hair or upturned collars. To shake her head as if to shake some sense into her and bring her back to reality. To make her listen to him, or to tilt her head so she was looking at him when he spoke to her.
Sometimes his hand would move higher and his fingers would weave and knot into her hair. He could shake her head better when he held her by the hair. He could frighten her when he did that, he could push her head down or back or drag and move her by gripping her hair.
She wasn't always sure why he did it, but everytime he did, (Y/n)'s mind would drift off.
A reflex, a safety precaution. He couldn't intimidate or frighten or hurt her if her mind wandered and she zoned out. All she had to do was zone off until he finished, until sex was over or he'd had enough of bruising her neck or skin. Then it was safe to come back to reality.
It hadn't been intentional to zone off right now with Ashton, it was just a mechanism built into her mind.
As she spoke, Ashton dropped his gaze and his stomach clenched horribly when he saw that one of her hand was moving, clenching like she was giving a visual of what Max would do and how it made her feel. He was sure she didn't realise she was doing it either.
He felt like he was going to be sick. The last thing Ashton wanted was to make (Y/n) think of her ex when they were having sex or to trigger her and make her mind shut down like that.
"I'm sorry," Ashton's words were so sincere that a look of surprise washed over (Y/n)'s face. Especially when he brushed his thumb over her waist so tenderly it felt like a feather gliding over her skin. "I didn't know, you've never told me that before."
He knew her ex wasn't a good person. Ashton had heard bits and pieces whenever (Y/n) suddenly felt like sharing or she dropped little things into conversation. He never asked because he didn't want to pry, he was the same, closed off when it came to certain topics or parts of his life.
But he had gathered that her ex was the bad sort, that he was rude, imposing, intimidating and sometimes hurtful. Ashton just never knew the extent of it. He didn't know her ex had ever been violent or hurtful towards her during sex. He would have been a bit more cautious, a bit more alert, if he knew.
"It's okay. And you didn't have to stop, I- I was just drifting," she rose her hand to wave it near her head, signalling that she had just zoned out for a bit.
(Y/n) hadn't expected him to stop or pull out just because her mind had wandered off. He didn't have to do that, she wouldn't of said anything or made a big thing of it or a fuss if he carried on.
Once again it seemed that her words made him frown and (Y/n) felt her heart surging up into her throat.
One look from Ashton was always enough to spark adrealine within (Y/n) for one reason or another. But the genuine hurt that flashed through his eyes made her want to cry.
She felt him lean closer until his chest was almost laid over hers again like he had been a few minutes ago, and his face was close enough that if he were smiling, she would have been able to see the dimples in his cheeks and see how deep they went. Their temples were practically touching now.
"You zoned out because I triggered you. Baby I- I had to stop. I'll always stop if something like this happens."
It was as if (Y/n) didn't even realise that what she experienced was a trigger, and that it wasn't a good thing.
Ashton would rather hurt himself than ever think of carrying on with sex if he'd triggered (Y/n). He couldn't just 'carry on' like everything was fine if she wasn't okay, if she was remembering something bad or if she felt afraid or uncomfortable or just wasn't in the mood anymore.
It wasn't sex if he was the only one enjoying it or actually, mentally participating in it, and even then that wasn't enjoyment if (Y/n) wasn't one hundred percent into it.
Stopping was the only option, the only thing to do, and nothing would change Ashton's mind on that. Though it did make his blood boil and blister through his veins to think that, clearly, Max was never considerate to (Y/n). He had clearly carried on, clearly didn't think of her or how to treat her right or make sure she was okay.
"And I'll always check in, make sure that you're okay, but I need you to promise me something."
Goosebumps rose on (Y/n)'s skin when she felt Ashton's hand move from her hip so he was suddenly cupping her chin. His touch was light enough that if she didn't want it there, all she had to do was turn her head and break the contact, and he would let go. But she didn't move at all.
If anything, (Y/n) leant into the touch, relishing in the way that his thumb stroked the dip over her chin beneath her lower lip. He carefully tilted her head up so she was no longer staring at his arm and had nowhere to look but into his glossing eyes that were so full of emotion that they looked fit to burst.
"If you ever want or need me to stop, you have to tell me."
No response would form in (Y/n)'s mind at those words, she found herself staring at him dumbfoundedly while she let her head lean forwards a little until Ashton was holding her head up in his hand.
He stroked his thumb across her lower lip, eyes widening as he waited for a response; for a promise.
But the way (Y/n) looked at him, it broke something inside of him and sent fissures crackling through his heart. She was looking at him like this was the first time, ever, that she had ever had someone be considerate with her, whether about or during sex or not.
Had no one ever taken her thoughts and feelings into account before? Ashton wanted many things, but he would never want to be the first person to take (Y/n)'s feelings into account. Because that meant for years before they'd met or started dating, no one had ever shown her the respect she deserved and needed.
"Don't you ever think you can't tell me to stop or that I'd be annoyed if you did; frankly I'd be heartbroken if you didn't. Okay, promise?"
"I promise."
The words were nothing more than a whisper, but they were enough to make Ashton's lips curve into a smile and sent a flood of warmth and adrenaline surging through (Y/n)'s stomach.
She felt his lips ghosting across hers, the touch so light it was barely there and it made (Y/n) lean towards him all the same, pushing into his chest to chase after his touch.
"Good; you can trust me. You can always trust me."
Hello 🫶🏻 ! i was wondering if you could do a 5sos imagine where reader is either really good friends with all of the boys or in a relationship with luke even and they all hang out at the studio as they’re writing the new album but there’s this one label guy that’s lowkey really shady and maybe even tries to touch reader? he threatens her that if she speaks he’ll end the bands career so she doesn’t want to say anything but luke/all of them notice and they find out and they’re immediately on her side and are so protective and everyone’s sure they can’t let that slide and they expose the guy and cut all future contact so basically lots of hurt/comfort and the boys being sooo comforting :’))) If that’s an idea you’d be open to i’d be so interested to see what you do with it!!
Hello,
ohhh this was an idea I was so interested in! Thank you for sending this in I got a little carried away writing this one. Protective fics are always a favourite of mine (as I'm sure you can tell)
I hope you like how it turned out, please let me know what you think.
Summary: (Y/n) usually joins the band at the studio when they are recording. But one of the record producers becomes inappropriate with her and threatens the band's upcoming album if she tells anyone. When the band find out, they are less than pleased.
Enjoy.
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"You like that one?"
(Y/n)'s hands hovered over the keys, fingers stretched and ready to dance back across the ivory chords in repetition the moment Luke gave her the go ahead.
A smile danced its way over her lips when she lolled her head back to look up at him where he was stood beside her. Luke always looked unnaturally tall when he wore those kind of flared, high waisted trousers that made his legs look as tall as trees. But with (Y/n) perched on the piano bench, feet hovering over the pedals and hands poised over the keys, Luke loomed taller beside her despite the way he was arched forward to be that bit nearer to her own height.
He had the kind of grin on his face that flashed his teeth and made him look youthful, boyish even.
With a nod of his head, Luke was pointing down to the piano. "Play it again, before we forget."
Not that either of them had such a horrible memory that they would forget what (Y/n) had just come up with, but Luke didn't want to take any chances.
He had his phone now clasped in his hand, thumb hovering over the record button ready for when (Y/n) repeated the melody. He wanted to record it so he could keep listening to it and get the melody stuck in his head. Then he could write it down on paper, make sure that it wouldn't become lost or a forgotten piece of art. And he could keep playing it to work out the rest of the song and see how the other lyrics worked with this tune.
This was why Luke loved bringing her to the studio, especially when they were trying to get the songs all mapped out.
He could start singing the lyrics- part of the time they got the songs written first, then worried about adding music afterwards- and (Y/n) would play around with a few chords either on the piano or on guitar. They would mess around until something clicked, and then adapt from there.
As requested, (Y/n) repeated the melody, twice, just to make sure Luke had it all on record and he had enough to work with and start toying around with the rest of the lyrics he had written down.
Her lips worked into a bright grin when she felt him lean over once he'd stopped recording, and press a longing kiss to the top of her head. The touch made her system swarm with butterflies and adrenaline and her nerves ignited like they had been set on fire.
She heard Luke murmuring "I love that," implying the melody, against her temple.
She reached her hand up to smooth circles against his lower back, leaning into his side for a few moments as she closed her eyes. It was about time to go and get another drink and take a break, now that they had sorted that melody out.
He could take that melody to the rest of the band and get their opinion and see if Ashton could get a beat to go along and blend in with that. Which would be a big task in itself.
With her hand still resting on the small of Luke's back, (Y/n) pushed up from the piano bench and pressed a soft kiss to his warm cheek before she stepped back.
"I'm gonna get a drink from the kitchen, want anything?"
"I'm good thanks," he punctuated the words with a kiss, not really wanting to let her go but he caved in eventually and (Y/n) grinned to herself as she headed out of the room.
This was one of the many reasons why she loved being here in the studio with the band when they were in the pre-recording sessions. Of course she loved being here to watch them get all the songs recorded and finished up as well, but this part was one of the best.
Being able to sit down with them, go through lyrics, help play some of the melodies with them and give a few pointers here and there. Even if she could just tag along to watch on some days, it felt like she was part of the magic, that she was witnessing something spectacular. No day was ever the same here in the studio.
She couldn't quite tame the smile from her lips as she aimed down the corridor and towards the kitchen with the aim of getting a drink.
The kitchen was colder than the rest of the studio, it was like the arctic compared to everywhere else in the studio. (Y/n) had a feeling she would hang out in there for a while to cool down and have a few minutes away from the loudness of the studio. She could hear the band's voices, still loud as if she were back in the room with them rather than wandering down the corridor aiming for the other end of the studio.
The grin wouldn't wipe away from her face as she reached her hand up and ran her fingers through her hair, making sure it stayed out of her eyes.
But as she headed down the brightly lit corridor, lined with posters, photos, glittering silver and golden vinyl records and award posters, (Y/n) locked her sights onto another figure heading in her direction down the corridor. And she could feel her smile slowly starting to dampen ever so slightly.
Alec.
He was one of the executive producers here at the studio, someone who (Y/n) ran into from time to time, but thankfully didn't have to have a lot of involvement with.
He was someone who had always questioned in the beginning why (Y/n) was here when she wasn't technically part of the band. Each of them had spoken up for her, saying they liked to have her around, that she was Luke's partner and helped in the creative process. He didn't make comments like that anymore, but (Y/n) never felt at ease around him.
He was too unsettling. His gaze lingered too long, there was always something behind his smile, something like he was analysing her, like he was checking for something or checking her out even.
He was the kind of person who stood too close, who let his hands linger on her skin, who leaned in to whisper something to her when he could have just spoken normally and without getting in her personal space.
(Y/n) knew she wasn't the only one who avoided being around Alec, who liked to keep him at arms length if she even had to be around him at all.
Her eyes cast towards the wall on her left, letting her gaze linger and catch on the silver glimmer in the photo frames so she didn't have to look directly at Alec. She didn't want to be caught up in a conversation with him, especially since no one else was around.
For some reason, the thought of being secluded and alone with Alec didn't sit right with (Y/n) at all. She would rather hurry into the kitchen and avoid him than be caught here in the corridor without anyone else loitering around nearby.
"(Y/n), how are you?" He dipped his head in greeting towards her and (Y/n) let her eyes dance across him.
There was something about the way his lingering eyes raked her up and down that made her shiver, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. He grinned a crooked grin that showed a few bleached white teeth, but combined with his narrowing eyes and the tightening muscles around his jaw, it almost looked like he was sizing her up. The kind of way someone would look at an opponent to gather whether or not they could win against them in a fight.
Unable to keep her eyes on his, (Y/n) angled her head down and forced a tight-lipped smile in response. "Fine, thanks."
"Looking lovely today."
Her head remained trained down towards the floor and she nodded, but wouldn't give a response. She didn't want to be thanking him for compliments she didn't want to receive, nor did she want to encourage or lead him on in any way.
With her hands twitching and curling at her sides, unsure what to do with themselves, (Y/n) carried on walking and tried to stick close to the wall so they wouldn't brush past one another when they crossed in the corridor.
It didn't work. An arm suddenly stretched out in front of her, the hand planting against a wall creating a barrier that she would either have to force down or duck underneath to escape from.
Her mouth pinched into a tight expression and her shoulders tensed and heightened as she sighed to herself.
"Excuse me-"
"What's the hurry?"
The hurry happened to be an imminent sense of uncertainty that was turning quickly into dread. But (Y/n) knew if she said that out loud she would only rile him up or upset him, and she didn't want to cause any arguments.
She decided to duck down and try to hurry underneath his arm than cause a scene by grabbing his wrist and forcing his arm out of her way. And she had a feeling if she tried to weave around him in the other direction, he would just step in front of her path again and try to block her exit.
She got beneath his arm and managed two steps away from him before his hands were suddenly locked around her hips in a tight enough grasp that he pinched her skin and made her heart explode with panic and growing terror.
"I'm just being friendly."
The words were almost a sneer as if he were saying an insult or making fun of her, and they chilled (Y/n) to her core.
This was not friendly. This was not kind or fun or anything that (Y/n) wanted or had agreed to. They weren't friends, and (Y/n) certainly didn't want him this close or touching her like this.
"Get off."
Her palm forced against his chest in an attempt to push him back, but she froze with a gasp when he shoved and her back hit the wall with a clatter that made the picture frames rattle. A corner of one of the frames jabbed into her shoulder and made her wince, but it was Alec's hands digging forcefully into her hips that made (Y/n) feel worse.
Her knees were tremoring as she tried to lock them in place and hold herself up, not wanting to slide or fall to the floor or rely on Alec to hold her up against the wall. That would only suffice to make things worse- worse than they already seemed to be.
With her hand curled into a fist she tried to put all of her force into her arm and thrust her fist into his chest, either to wind him or push him back enough to break away from him, whichever happened first. The force jolted Alec's system, but it invoked a rather frightening smirk on his crooked lips that made her core tremble with fear.
She didn't expect his left hand to get go of her hip and grasp the side of her face instead.
The heel of his hand pressed beneath her jaw with enough force to make her mouth and tongue ache and his short nails scratched her skin as his fingers moulded against her cheek. Using his grip and force to thrust her head back until the back of her head was pressing into the wall and her face was angled up towards him.
The pressure on her chin made her lips part but (Y/n) couldn't get any air to escape her lungs. It was like there was a blockage in her chest, a cork in her lungs preventing them from expelling the air properly.
Not that it mattered when Alec's lips were then smothering her own with a ferocity that made her cower back against the wall and had the inside of her lips cutting and grating against her teeth.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she found the will to moe her trembling limbs. Both hands thrust against Alec's chest and shoved until she managed to push him off her and she was no longer pinned to the wall. Her chin and throat ached when his hand finally left her skin and her head lolled down as if her neck had snapped.
Deep, raging breaths gulped past her lips as one hand reached out to cover her mouth and the other pressed against the wall, using it as guidance to help herself stumble away from him. She wanted as much distance between them both as possible. She didn't want to be anywhere near Alec after that, much less stay in the same building as him.
"You- you're insane!"
She choked through the words, doing her best to hold back the tears as she continued to add distance between them, despite how Alec was grinning like a mad man.
His hand ghosted over his chest, implying she had used enough force to hurt him or at least made his chest feel tight where she had whacked him to push him away. Though he was still smiling, and in the blink of an eye, he surged forward and clasped his hand around her forearm that was trembling and pressed against the wall.
Quicker than she believed her reflexes to be, (Y/n) yanked her arm away from him and slapped him across the face before she could stop herself or think better of provoking him.
Her eyes were as wide as full moons, glossed over with unshed tears she refused to allow to fall while she was still in Alec's horrid presence.
"A word of advice," he heaved through the words, clearly trying to get his breaths back while he sneered at (Y/n) who was taking cautious steps away from him.
She didn't have the energy or the force in her legs to run, to flee and get into the nearest room with a lock to keep Alec away from her. But she couldn't stand still either, not in case he lunged and tried to go for another forceful attack like that.
"I wouldn't go spreading rumours to any of your friends." His head ticked to the left, indicating in the direction of the studio room where the band could still faintly be heard. "The label doesn't like scandals, we drop artists who make a fuss. Bear that in mind."
(Y/n)'s heart severed and dropped down to her stomach like a stone sinking to the bottom of the ocean.
Her hand stayed meshed against her mouth as she fled the corridor and flung herself into the kitchen, kicking the door shut behind her with such a resounding bang that she jumped forward with a shuddering yelp.
What was she going to do? Did she try and gather herself and her thoughts and go back to the band after a few moments in here alone? Did she hide out in the toilets until she felt calmer and composed? Or did she grab her things and leave?
It would be a long walk home, Luke had driven them both here from home and she could hardly take his car whether she asked him or not. He would wonder what was wrong, he would want to take her home himself and if he did that, (Y/n) wasn't sure she would be able to hide this from him for long.
There was no way she could tell him what Alec had just done.
If she told Luke- or any of the band- what had happened, then it would create havoc for the band.
(Y/n) wouldn't be the reason why they got dropped from the record label. This was their album, their hard work, this was what they had been working so hard on for the last year and a half. (Y/n) wouldn't cause them trouble and have them dropped from the label and leave them scrambling to find another record label to take them on at such short notice and produce their album that was already underway.
If they were dropped from the label, there could be consequences. Alec was a producer, he was an executive, he could spread lies about the band, he could label them as trouble, make some calls and make it even harder for them to get a new listing.
(Y/n) couldn't do that to Luke, to Michael and Calum and Ashton.
But she couldn't remain here in the studio either; she couldn't put herself at risk around Alec in case he did something like this again.
What was she going to do? What was she going to tell Luke?
***
"Aren't you getting ready, we've gotta leave soon."
Luke began adjusting the rings that sat on his fingers, pushing them further along until they were almost welded against his knuckles. Out of habit, he spun them around a few times as if checking they were tight enough to stay where they were, but loose enough to be able to get off again at the end of the day.
He turned on his heels and looked behind him when he didn't receive an answer. His eyes locked on (Y/n) immediately, watching how she was stood with her back and hips pressed up against the kitchen counter. She had one leg crossed over the other, and both hands were held close to her chest, fiddling with a loose thread on her shirt like it was the most important thing in the world.
"Not today."
A frown worked its way onto Luke's lips and he stepped closer to (Y/n), running his now ring-clad fingers through his hair to bounce his curls and part them so they didn't hang right down into his eyes.
"Why not?" His tone was concerned, caring, worried and it made (Y/n)'s stomach jump up into her throat.
Shaking her head, she uttered "I don't feel like it today."
She coudn't look up at Luke as she spoke, too afraid that if she looked him in the eyes then she would end up spilling the real reason why she didn't want to go to the studio with him today.
He knew something was up, (Y/n) hardly ever refused to tag along and join him at the studio. This was the first time in a long while that Luke could remember where (Y/n) was opting out of going with him.
"Baby what's wrong?"
Luke took another cautious step closer until he was standing in between (Y/n)'s legs. His knee gently nudged her thigh to one side so he could be even closer, feeling her thighs closing in around his legs like she was trapping him exactly where he was, where he wanted to be.
He leant his hips forward against her own and reached both hands out to carefully cup her face. His thumbs glided across her cheekbones as if smoothing out invisible creases in her skin and as gently as possible, he tilted her head back so she was finally looking up at him.
(Y/n)'s breath caught in her throat when Luke pressed his temple down against hers and the end of his nose bumped hers. She could feel each tender breath he took which fanned against her mouth, the soft rise and fall of his chest, even the way his lips curled into a smile that made her want to melt into a puddle on the kitchen floor.
"I don't wanna go today… not in the creative mood I guess." It was hard trying to keep her tone neutral and bland as if this were no big deal. She didn't want Luke to worry, and she couldn't go and tell him the real reason why she was declining to go.
Her hands rose up and curled around his wrists, trying not to cling too tightly and let ouot the panic she was doing well to bundle together and push down. Even the tears she thought were about to spill managed to be held at bay.
"You don't just wanna hang out at the studio for the day, no pressure to join in?"
(Y/n) shook her head, unable to trust her voice again because the truth was forming at the back of her mind and threatening to spill from her lips. She shivered and leaned into the touch when Luke tilted his head back and merged his lips with her temple, pressing soft butterfly kisses to her crown.
"Okay."
He wouldn't fight it. He knew something was up, he could feel it in his bones and he knew there had to be a reason (Y/n) didn't want to come along today. Even if she didn't feel like trying to help with the music or lyrics, she would always come along and be there at the studio rather than staying home alone.
And he was sure that she wasn't ill or feeling under the weather. There was a reason, but if she didn't want to tell him, then Luke wasn't going to push the subject. (Y/n) would tell him when she was ready, he trusted in that.
The spoon in (Y/n)'s hand began to clink and tap against the rim of her cup, almost acting as a rhythmic beat like a metronome.
Her left hand pressed down into the edge of the counter until the sharpness was pressing into the palm of her hand and her arm was at the point of straining from how she was pushing her weight forward. But it was helping. It was helping to calm down the worry and mounting anxiety within her.
(Y/n) didn't want to be panicking today, she didn't want to be worrying or getting nervous.
It had been a big decision this morning to come down to the studio today, where she had specifically avoided for the last week and a half.
She knew she couldn't keep avoiding coming down here, Luke was getting worried and the band were asking if she was okay. They missed her, it wasn't the same without everyone here and even though (Y/n) wasn't strictly in the band, she was still part of the creative process. They wanted her here.
And she knew it wasn't fair on herself as much as on them if she stayed away. Alec didn't have that right to keep her from the studio, to make her feel like she couldn't be here in case she bumped into him.
As long as she kept out of his way, as long as she stuck to the band and made sure she was never on her own, then she should be alright.
That was what she told herself, anyway.
"When is it again?" (Y/n) spoke softly, glancing over her left shoulder to look towards Michael who was currently rummaging around in the fridge for a drink of his own.
"Next week, probably Friday. You up for it?"
"If I can choose at least one of the movies, then of course." Movie nights with the band were always fun, but (Y/n) knew there would be a right concoction of films. Cheesy rom-coms, at least one shitty film, and a horror would definitely be in the mix.
She heard Michael utter "I'll think about it," in that cheesy tone that made her grin to herself.
The whistling of the kettle grew louder and drew (Y/n)'s attention away but she found herself looking back over her shoulder again when the kitchen door creaked as it swung wide open again.
Oh God.
Her stomach sank down and grew heavy like she was about to throw up her lunch and the swarm of adrenaline that shot through her system made her feel even worse. Her lips curved into a grimace as she angled her head down towards her cup, refusing to look in any other direction.
She didn't want to catch his eye; (Y/n) didn't want to spare one glance in his direction and be embroiled in conversation with him.
The last time (Y/n) had seen Alec was when he threatened her in the hallway. And she didn't want a repeat of that incident again.
She wasn't sure what he said to Michael as he entered the room, the blood pounding in her ears was far too loud for (Y/n) to hear anything over the top of it. Her blood felt like champagne fizzling in her veins and it made her head swirl and become dizzy.
The kettle whistled and clicked as it boiled, but (Y/n) couldn't find the will to move, not when she could feel Alec moving close behind her. He was closing in on her like an animal about to devour its prey.
Her nerves ignited like they had been set on fire when his heavy hand set on her shoulder and (Y/n) felt like she was being weighed down by such a simple touch. The touch itself would have been insignificant if it had come from anyone else, but from him, it was almost like a warning had flared in (Y/n)'s mind.
She tensed up, elbows pinning into her sides and frame going rigid as she fought the urge to shake off his touch. She didn't want to make a scene.
"Nice to see you back again, you've not been around the last week or so."
When it seemed that Alec was saddling up to stand beside her, (Y/n) stepped to the left to try and add some distance between them. She didn't want him beside her, she didn't want to be anywhere near Alec; she didn't trust what he might do.
Out the corner of her eye she noticed Michael aiming for the door. He'd gotten the drink he came in here for, and of course he saw nothing wrong with her chatting to Alec, he couldn't see the rising, alarming panic building up within (Y/n). He wouldn't think twice about leaving her alone in Alec's presence. But (Y/n) wasn't going to be put in that situation; not again.
"Hold- hold on a sec, I'll walk with you."
Michael turned as he stood in the doorway, glancing at (Y/n) over his shoulder. A frown pulled at his lips when he noticed her sudden unease and he could hear a twinge of panic in her voice.
It was hard to stop herself from trembling as she reached out for the kettle, trying to be swift in making her drink so she could leae the room with Michael and feel safe. But she ended up being hasty and clumsy instead; the boiling water splashed over the rim of her cup and scalded her index and middle fingers when it splashed onto her.
She barely flinched, teeth biting down into her tongue to stop herself from hissing because the pain was nothing compared to her utter panic when she felt Alec leaning in towards her.
"Surely you know your way around by now?" He whispered the words in her ear and reached out for the kettle that she had barely set down. His fingers curled over her own like a sheet of sandpaper scratching her hand and he did well to grab onto the kettle when (Y/n) yanked her hand back and let go.
Backing up, she forgot about her half-made drink on the counter and turned on her heels, leaving before Alec could reach out and grab her arm like he clearly intended to when he reached towards her. She wouldn't give him the chance to do that again.
Her heart thundered in her chest and pulsed in her throat as she scrambled for air, breathing like she had been submerged under water and almost drowned.
(Y/n) swallowed hard, forcing her feet to move faster as she aimed towards Michael and latched one hand around his oversized jacket sleeve for security. Sticking close to his side as they left the kitchen in somewhat of a hurry, although Michael was none the wiser to why they were practically running out.
"Your drink-"
"I don't want one anymore."
"What's wrong?"
When Michael looked down, his breath caught in his throat when he realised that (Y/n) was shaking. Her left hand that was latched onto his sleeve was tremoring and he could see the small bubbling blisters on her fingers where she had scalded herself from the kettle. But it looked as if she barely felt it or even noticed she was burned.
He received no answer to his question, just (Y/n) clinging to his sleeve as she steered them back towards the studio where the rest of the band were cooped up.
As soon as they headed into the room, (Y/n) made a beeline for one of the plush armchairs and sank down. Her knees coiled up to her chest and both arms bound around them, pinning her knees to her chest so her chin could rest on top of them. Her head angled to the left, staring towards the far window that only provided a view of the cyan sky and the few clouds floating by.
It looked and felt as if she were cutting herself off from them, like she was desperate to hide herself away in a corner and be forgotten. The thought made Michael's stomach drop as if it had been hollowed out.
His eyes cast over (Y/n) for a few seconds before something bubbled over in his mind and he made a beeline for Luke.
Whatever had unsettled (Y/n) had been enough to worry Michael, and he wasn't going to sit around and watch her close herself off and become upset. He wouldn't force her to talk to him if she wasn't comfortable with that, but the least he could do was tell Luke that something was wrong.
It was as if (Y/n) could feel a pair of eyes burning into her because just when she glanced to her right, she found Luke already looking dead ahead at her. Michael was stood at his side, uttering something in his ear too quiet for (Y/n) to hear, but it sent a wave of unease washing through her stomach nonetheless.
Her eyes followed Luke as he made a beeline for her, concern glittering in his eyes like stars.
Once he reached her, Luke slowly crouched down beside the chair she was in, folding his arms on the arm rest with his chin perched on his forearm. There was a tender look in his eyes and a smile on his lips that always made (Y/n)'s heart skip a beat no matter how many times she had witnessed that smile over the years.
He stretched one hand out, ghosting the back of his fingers along her arm when (Y/n) ducked her head down and chose to stare at his rings rather than keep his gaze.
"Baby, what's the matter? Has something happened?" His voice was quiet, mellow, but there was an encouraging urge to his voice like he was desperate for an answer.
(Y/n) shook her head and tilted her chin down so her lips were meshed against her arm, partially hiding herself away from him and preventing him from seeing how close she was to bursting into tears. As much as she wanted to tell him, she couldn't. She knew she shouldn't have bothered coming in at all, staying away would of been the best course of action.
Trying again, Luke grazed his hand along her arm and spoke in the same gentle, understanding tone. "Something's clearly upset you, you've barely been in the studio the last two weeks."
"You've been on edge here all day, tell us what's going on. You can talk to us." Calum tried his hand at being tactful and understanding as he sat down on the chair next to (Y/n)'s, nudging his elbow lightly against her arm.
They had all noticed that she hadn't really wanted to be here for almost two weeks, and now that she was here today, she hadn't been herself. Not joining in, sticking to this room and barely leaving it even when Luke went next door to the recording room to try out a few melodies. Something wasn't right, but none of them would make fun or laugh or be annoyed by whatever it was that was upsetting her. She could tell them anything.
"I can't."
The tears glistening in (Y/n)'s eyes and the way she spoke, so quiet like she was on the verge of breaking, it made Luke's heart palpitate.
"Yes you can."
"Is it Alec, or one of the producers?" Michael knew he'd guessed right because (Y/n) took a sharp breath and seemed to push back in her seat, unable to look at any of them.
"Talk to me." With his left arm still folded on the armrest, Luke reached out and took her hand in his free one. He threaded their fingers together to both give her some comfort and to stop her from biting her nails down to the nub. She had to tell them, or at least him, what this was all about, he was starting to become worried now.
(Y/n) gave Luke's hand a tight squeeze, almost shaking in his grasp while she turned her head so they were looking at one another again.
She could feel the rest of the band hovering round, trying not to crowd but they clearly wanted to know what the problem was, especially if it was something they could help with or sort. But (Y/n) couldn't see how any of them could help with this, not when she had made it worse by coming back to the studio when she really shouldn't have.
"He pinned me to the wall, wouldn't let go, th- then he kissed me… I pushed him off, but he said the label- the label would drop you, if you made a fuss over it."
It was as if (Y/n) had killed the sparkle in Luke's eyes; she watched it become snuffed out the more words that fell from her lips until there was nothing left but darkening cyan blue that was practically churning black by now. She could see Luke's upper lip curling like he was about to snarl.
It took a lot for him to get angry, for him to be annoyed with anyone even when he had every right to be, and now she had made him look volatile.
His hand tightened around hers, but that was the only movement he made, like the rest of him was made out of stone and couldn't possibly be moved.
But out the corner of her vision, (Y/n) could see the others shifting. She could see Michael biting down on his painted nails like he was trying to stop himself from saying something or lashing out. Calum's hands were deadlocked together in his lap until his knuckles were threatening to burst through the skin, and Ashton was suddenly on his feet with one foot tapping the floor like a mad hare.
Shallow breaths escaped (Y/n)'s lips as she tried not to let the sobs in her chest break free. "If I'm not here, then t- then there's no issue, you can finish up the album."
"He told you to stay silent, or he'd get the album dropped from the label?" Ashton confirmed with such a horrified expression that (Y/n) had never seen on him before.
Using the band as leverage against her. That was beyond cruel; that was sick. How did he think he could get away with something like that? How did he think he had the authority and the power to hurt (Y/n) like that, to upset and frighten her and then threaten the band against her if she spoke out.
"Oh my God."
"Where is he?" The words seethed past Luke's lips in such a volatile tone that if any of them hadn't seen the words leave his lips, they wouldn't have believed it had been Luke who said them.
He pushed up from being crouched beside the chair, his hand untangling from (Y/n)'s as he turned around, but he didn't get far. Calum's hands were on his shoulders and Michael was in front of him blocking his path to get out of the room. They couldn't have Luke starting a fight, that really wouldn't do them all any favours.
"Woah, no. No, no we're not doing that." Calum patted Luke's shoulder as if trying to simmer him down and stop him from even thinking about starting a fight. Because if Luke did that, then Alec would have leverage against them instead of the other way around.
The four of them seemed to share a look as Ashton moved to stand on Luke's other side, like they were children huddling round in a playground to come up with a new game plan.
Whatever they began to murmur, (Y/n) couldn't hear with their voices being so low and her head spinning and feeling like it was full with cotton wool.
She snapped out of her thoughts when Luke was suddenly in front of her again, looming above her like a skyscraper. He bent down towards her, legs as straight as tree trunks while his hand held out in front of him until (Y/n) placed her palm in his, unsure what he wanted or what he was about to do.
"Let's go." He coaxed (Y/n) to her feet, keeping her palm tightly bound in his as he guided her from the chair and out of the room.
For a dreaded moment (Y/n) was sure that Luke was going to search the entire studio until he found Alec and either gave him a piece of his mind or started an argument with him. But instead, Luke directed her into the next room where all their instruments were and the recording booth was.
Confusion plastered across (Y/n)'s face when the band filtered in behind them and almost immediately, they were all moving towards their instruments.
(Y/n) watched them all, her free hand now curled around Luke's arm to keep herself pressed up into his side as he slowly trailed around the room grabbing his things. But it was the rest of the band who worried her. Calum and Michael were gathering their guitars and bass and the cases, kneeling down on the floor with all their instruments that they were starting to pack up.
And when she looked at Ashton, horror plastered across her face as she watched him kneel down and begin to unscrew his drumkit, clearly ready to take it apart.
"Wh- what are you doing?"
"We're packing up."
"We're not having this label stuck on our album after they've been inappropriate and then threatened you." Michael's tone was kind and he wore a smile when he looked across at (Y/n) from where he knelt on the floor. But he spoke as if it was rather obvious.
The four of them had just agreed. They were leaving. There was no way in Hell that they would have this record label printed on their next album after someone had just touched (Y/n) inappropriately and then threatened the band against her to keep her quiet.
They would rather leave with all their material and find another label to help them produce than stick around here after that.
(Y/n)'s hand tightened around Luke's arm until she was practically cutting off his circulation. She pushed herself into his side like she was trying to glue them both together, but her wide eyes stared up at him when he turned to face her.
His right hand stayed entwined with hers, their palms suctioned together, while he reached his free hand down to caress her face, fingers ghosting across her skin. His lips curved into a smile and he stepped closer until their chests were touching and his nose touched hers, their lips close enough that there was barely a breath of space separating them.
"We have the rights to our own music, baby, we can go to a different record label if we want. If he wants to play the imitation game then we'll raise the stakes."
This wasn't their first album, far from it. The band had evolved and their music was well known. They didn't have to fight or beg for a studio to produce their music and they weren't stuck for choice either. If they went to another label it would be easy to get signed on.
This new album was halfway done, they had their songs ready, their lyrics prepared and bass melodies prepared. Recording, polishing up and burning cds was all that was left to do. Changing labels might set them back a few weeks but it would be worth it.
They could do what they wanted, and if Alec wanted to try and intimidate them, then they would leave. It would cost the label to have the band quit at such short notice and go to another firm.
It was the label's loss, not theirs.
And it just so happened that Calum knew a few online tabloids and journalists he still kept in touch with. In a week's time, there would be an email in their inbox detailing Alec's name, the label and studio he worked for, the details of the intimidation game he tried to play against them, and how the band had severed all contact with the record label.
me again back with the Ashton pregnancy requests 🫣 I had a dream last night that I was pregnant and ended having to give birth backstage at the show because it was too late to get to a hospital, do you think you’d be able to write something like this ??
Ooh you know I loveeee and live for these requests!!!
If I had this dream I’d never want to wake up! Thank you for sending me this! Please keep sending these ideas I’m in such a 5SOS mood it’s unreal!
Can’t remember if I asked previously… I blame mom brain lol but could I be added to your taglist for any of your stories that come out! I love all your works and honestly don’t wanna miss when another one comes out! Much love to you❤️❤️
Hi,
Ooh of course you can! I’m terrible at remembering to add people so I screenshot the asks to help me. I’ll add you onto the list lovey thank you so much that’s makes me so happy especially since you never know what fandom I’ll be posting for each time
This is a new, rather long, Ashton Irwin imagine based on a request from a lovely anon, I hope you like it.
Thank you for all the new 5sos requests it truly makes my day whenever one pops in because there isn't enough content for them out there and I'm in my 5sos obsessive era.
Summary: During the tour while the band are performing, Ashton's heavily pregnant wife goes into labour. And things progress rather quickly.
Enjoy.
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It seemed like everyone was happy to be on the move.
The vast tour bus, which had quickly become a home to everyone on board, couldn't have pulled up at a better time. Each of them were moving towards the front, moving single file towards the door liked they thought they would become trapped forever if they stayed here for a moment longer.
Walking around on the bus wasn't the same leg-stretch as being out in the fresh air, having more room to walk and stretch than to pace up and down the length of the bus like caged animals. At least when they were travelling at night, they could sleep and wake up in a new destination; they felt caged when they travelled during daytime.
The headache that had plagued (Y/n) all morning didn't seem to be going anywhere.
But now that she was stood up, she could feel the dull ache in her lower back and hips more prominently than before. More than during the early morning where she had been sat on the side of the small bed at the back of the bus, unable to lie down any longer because the pain spiked when she laid on her back. And she feared if she laid for too long, she wouldn't be able to get back up again.
(Y/n) was sure that at any moment, her back was going to seize up and she wouldn't be able to move.
It couldn't be helped; this is what she signed up for. (Y/n) knew what she'd agreed to when she said she would come along for the tour when she was heavily pregnant. She knew it would involve aches and pains, discomfort and a lot of sleepless nights.
It was worth it; it was always worth it to watch her husband on tour, to see the band perform almost every night, to be a part of the magic and witness it first hand. What would be the alternative? Staying at home in another country, thousands of miles away from Ashton? Going through the end of her pregnancy alone, only sharing the moments on video calls and photos? That wasn't something (Y/n) would ever have wanted.
This was what happened when work and private lives collided, when the tour coincided with the upcoming arrival of their first baby.
She could feel Ashton close behind her, she could hear the thud of his boots hitting the floor like he was trying to shake the tour bus with his presence and announce his departure.
(Y/n) was glad to be getting some fresh air as well as taking a walk to try and stop the aching in her bones and relieve some of the tension in her system. She had been fighting hard to keep her eyes open on the journey here, not so much because she was tired but because the headache had been that persistent that it hurt to focus, on anything.
Each step she took made her legs feel hollowed out, like there were no bones left within them and they were about to crumble to the floor.
Her eyes focused on the floor as they all headed to the front of the bus and turned right to get to the stairs leading down to the pavement.
She was on the second step down when her back twinged.
It wasn't clear whether the twinge had jolted down her nerves and caused her balance to shift, or whether the twinge simply took (Y/n) by surprise and caused her to lose her footing. Either way, the sole of her shoe skidded on the edge of the step and her body jolted forward and a yelp tore past her lips.
Her left hand curled around the metal hand rail, gripping so fiercely that her nails scratched along the circular rail in an attempt to stop herself from crashing down the steps and falling to the floor.
Despite the way her body jolted down as if the stairs had completely disappeared beneath her, (Y/n) didn't fall far. A strong pair of arms encased around her middle, fingers scrunching into her dress to get a good grip on her.
Her heart surged into her throat as Ashton yanked her up, letting her back crash into his chest as he doubled forward and braced his knees. He expertly balanced himself at the top of the short descent of steps to hold (Y/n) up. He knew his grip was tight but he would rather hold her bruisingly than have her slip through his embrace and crash onto the stairs or worse, fall down them and land on the pavement with a bang.
"Shit!"
He wrenched (Y/n) up a bit higher, holding onto her until he felt how she managed to balance herself and secure her feet on the step below her.
Calum wavered on the last step, wobbling like a bobble head as he had been about to take the last jump from the stairs to the pavement, but he stopped when he felt (Y/n)'s legs flailing behind him. He spun around, his right arm thrusting behind him like a barrier that pressed against her waist in a feeble attempt to stop her from falling into him.
When he properly turned to look up at her, his other hand reached out and quickly grabbed her hand that wasn't gripping the hand rail, helping her find her balance while his eyes widened like saucers and worry flooded his entire expression.
"Hey, you okay?"
"Babe, what's wrong?" Ashton sounded breathless as he leant his head over her shoulder, chin brushing over her skin as he tried to look over her and see her a bit better. He couldn't quite guess that had happened there, whether she had slipped or whether or not something was wrong and made her wobble.
(Y/n) felt herself trembling as she let go of the handrail in favour of reaching her hand down to grip onto Ashton's forearm, both to calm him down and reassure herself that she was alright.
She stayed leaning back into his chest, trying to catch her breath that was fluttering away without her.
"I- I slipped, I'm okay." She nodded to reassure them both; she could feel the worry radiating off of Ashton and she could see the panic clearly displayed o Calum's face. "Sorry," sympathy and a hint of guilt flooded her voice.
"Don't apologise, long as you're alright." Calum managed a smile and a quick squeeze of her hand.
It wasn't as if she had been messing around, trying to knock him over or play a prank or anything. She had slipped, it wasn't her fault and there was no need to apologise. As long as she was okay, neither of them would make a fuss.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Ashton whispered the words against the shell of her ear and she managed another nod.
When they started walking again, all of them moving much slower and more carefully this time, Ashton loosened his grip on her. The last thing he wanted was to hurt (Y/n) because he had grabbed her hastily to stop her from falling. His fingers loosened from her dress, leaving creases in his absence, but he kept his arms secured around her middle, not quite reassured enough to let her go just yet.
It was reassuring to have Ashton holding onto her and (Y/n) kept her hand latched onto his forearm while Calum let go of her hand but stayed relatively close until they were all safe on the pavement.
(Y/n) let herself lean back against Ashton's chest as she tried to slow down her hammering breaths. She could feel his hand moving to press down against the side of her abdomen where the baby started to kick, clearly riding the same adrenaline high (Y/n) was.
One more week.
One more week, four more shows after this one tonight, and then the tour would be taking a break for a month. After this week, they would be home in LA waiting for their baby to arrive. A month of relaxed chaos with a newborn before the tour would start up again.
"Are you gonna get something to eat?"
(Y/n) opened her eyes abruptly and looked up just as Ashton came into view before her. He had one brow arched as he looked down at her, his expression caught between assessing her to check she was alright and wanting to scold her because he knew she hadn't actually had anything to eat yet today.
He sank down into the seat next to her, seeing as (Y/n) had chosen to sit down here in the arena while the band had been helping to set up the stage and get everything in order. (Y/n) had been walking around the backstage part of the arena for long enough, it was time for a sit down before her legs gave out beneath her.
She watched the way Ashton slouched a little in the seat beside her, his knees parting to the sides while he leant in her direction even though there was no one in the chair on his other side.
He moved his hand to offer the paper plate towards her. He'd grabbed a few things from the buffet table backstage, choosing to fuel up now before the adrenaline high kicked in and he would get too nervous and overwhelmed to have anything to eat.
But (Y/n) shook her head and leant her cheek against his shoulder, slouching against his arm as she denied anything from the plate.
"M'not hungry."
"You've not eaten today." He stated matter-of-factly and arched a brow as he looked down at her where she was leaning on his shoulder.
He felt the way she bristled as if she had been caught out doing something wrong, and she tucked herself more into his bicep like she wanted to try and hide or disappear.
Ashton wasn't trying to start an argument, they didn't fight often at all and that was the way he liked it. But he couldn't help the worry he felt. Not only had (Y/n) not been sleeping well the last few days, but he had noticed she hadn't had anything to eat today, no breakfast, nothing at lunch, and now she was refusing some picky bits of food that he thought would have been easier for her.
Not to mention the little incident getting off the tour bus this morning that Ashton was sure had been more of a funny turn than simply slipping down a step.
"I know, but I'm- I'm not feeling up to it… probably just the drive down here. I'll get something later."
She wasn't lying, she really didn't feel hungry and the thought of food was making her stomach churn. (Y/n) didn't want to eat something only to feel or actually be sick later on, that would only make Ashton worry more and make her feel worse.
Driving for long periods of time tended to mess with her head, not to mention being eight months pregnant. She would get something later when her system had settled down.
"Make sure you do or you'll make yourself sick." The edge of worry in his tone made (Y/n)'s stomach flutter and she turned her head to peck his broad shoulder that was warm to the touch.
She would make sure she ate something, even if it was just a bit of fruit or a pack of crisps, just something to line her stomach and so she could tell him she had eaten and he wouldn't worry. He didn't need to worry when he had a show tonight to prepare for.
They stayed there in the front seats around the arena for a while, until eventually each of them decided to get a move on and get themselves ready for the performance tonight. They had to leave the arena anyway so the final checks and cleans could be done for when the first crowds would appear and come rushing in for the best seat.
(Y/n) and Ashton parted ways, heading in different directions as she went to the toilet and for a walk to get her back loosened up again. Sitting down had been what she needed, but it hadn't done her aching back and hips any good.
Getting to the toilets and going for a walk seemed to take (Y/n) twice, if not three times as long as it normally would. Her hips were aching more than her back once she was up and walking about.
She hadn't felt this bad a couple of days ago.
(Y/n) thought she had been doing so well joining them all on tour and keeping up with them despite getting closer and closer to the end of her pregnancy. Her due date was in three weeks and up until now she had been having little issues or problems. Not a lot of aches and pains, walking and keeping up with them fine, mooching about the arenas and watching the shows and taking endless photos.
Perhaps the fast pace of the tour was finally starting to catch up with her and hold her back.
As she headed down a long corridor and aimed for the dressing rooms where she knew the band would be getting ready- where she knew her husband would be- it felt like the corridor was stretching out into oblivion and she was never going to get there.
When a particularly horrid twinge rolled through her lower back and seemed to last and sear around her middle, (Y/n) had to stop.
Her left hand reached out for the wall, palm planting against it to prop herself up and lean a bit of her weight on the wall so she didn't feel so unsteady and trembling on her feet. Closing her eyes seemed the only option to stop her head from spinning in a feeble attempt to regulate her system and recalibrate. She needed to keep moving, she couldn't just stand here forever, but now that she had stopped, (Y/n) wasn't so sure she could keep going.
Her head angled down until her chin was almost glued up against her throat, and she began to breathe deeply through her nose, trying to hold her breath for a few seconds if she could manage it.
God, what had she done to herself? Had she slept funny, when she did manage to get some sleep at all? Had she pulled a muscle? Was she coming down with something? Or had the baby been moving about a bit too much, applying enough pressure to cause the pain (Y/n) was starting to feel constantly?
(Y/n) felt at the point of tears when suddenly there was a light touch to her shoulder that made her system jolt like she had received an electric shock. She fought the urge to jolt her arm up and push the touch away when she opened her eyes quick and realised who it was.
It was only Luke.
She was close enough with the entire band that they felt like family, (Y/n) trusted them, she could rely on them and be comforted and be herself around them. It was when the tour management and crew tried reaching out and being too friendly that it made her uncomfortable.
She couldn't count the times on this tour that one of the crew had tried reaching out to touch her stomach or tried holding her arm and grabbing at her like she was suddenly unable to walk because she was pregnant. Though most of the time when that had happened, Ashton had appeared and either discretely asked them to leave his wife alone, or he'd bound his arms around her and guided her away from the situation.
"You doing alright over here?" A soft grin spread across Luke's lips as he looked her up and down, trying to silently assess whether or not she was in any pain or perhaps about to be sick.
From the way she was leaning on the wall and stooped forward a bit, it looked like she was in pain, although he presumed she could be preparing to throw up if she felt queasy and couldn't make it back to the toilets in time.
"Hm, got a cure for a bad back?" (Y/n)'s voice was quiet enough that Luke had to strain to make out what she'd said and there was a certain level of control in her voice, like she was trying not to show how much discomfort she was currently in.
"A comfy chair in the dressing room?"
That seemed the best thing that Luke could offer, other than telling Ashton he needed to come and give his pregnant wife a back massage and find her some painkillers.
With a nod and a forced smile, (Y/n) made herself straighten up and plastered the calmest look she could muster on her face so she didn't worry Luke or anyone else they might walk past. She didn't want any fuss, not when she was just experiencing the usual aches and pains she expected at this late stage in her pregnancy.
When she pushed off the wall and found her balance, she saw Luke had let go of her shoulder and was silently holding his left elbow out towards her. A kind gesture of help and comfort.
(Y/n) let her hand curl around the crease of his elbow, chiding herself so she didn't lean any of her weight onto him at all.
"This time next month you won't be feeling like this anymore." He uttered with a grin that (Y/n) barely managed to return.
"Thank God."
She was grateful that Luke kept a slow pace to walk beside her, he was usually one step ahead of everyone else with his boysterous energy and naturally long legs. But he was keeping pace with her, moving at a much slower pace than he was used to. Then again, he'd not long had a little girl of his own so he would of had some experience in keeping a slow pace to walk alongside his pregnant wife.
When they finally made it to the dressing room Luke's eyes remained glued on (Y/n), silently assessing her as he watched her reach out for the armrest of the sofa which she used as a leaning post so she could sit down. He didn't miss the way she winced when she eased herself down, like sitting down didn't give her half as much relief as she had hoped it would.
Luke took a step back, the smile still stuck to his features while he glanced to his left and locked eyes with Ashton.
The drummer was just finishing up getting changed, shrugging on his sleeveless leather waistcoat with the long tails at the back like a split cape adding a bit of flare to the outfit. When their eyes locked Luke darted his gaze towards (Y/n) and back again to get Ashton to move towards his wife and realise something wasn't quite right.
Ashton's brows furrowed and he retracted his hand that had been reaching for the cowboy hat he had been wearing out on stage. He shifted direction, boots stomping against the hard floor as he aimed towards the plush red sofa.
His hands leant on the arm rest as he crouched down beside (Y/n), reaching one hand up to tilt her chin up so their gazes entwined. She looked uncomfortable; she looked like she might even be in some sense of pain, and that sent anxiety rocketing through Ashton's chest and exploding in his heart.
"Baby if you're not well I'll-"
"I'm alright." (Y/n) was quick to reach out and take his hand that was resting against her jaw so she could entwine their fingers together. "Don't even think about it; you're on in ten minutes."
The last thing (Y/n) wanted was for the show to stop or be delayed, that wouldn't be fair at all to all the fans that had been waiting months for this night, for these tickets. They were all in that arena, having gotten worked up by the warm up acts, now waiting for the main show to begin.
(Y/n) wouldn't have that show interrupted because of her. She was feeling uncomfortable and that was normal, she was heavily pregnant, she would be giving birth next month. Sitting and wallowing or making them all worry unnecessarily about her wasn't going to help anyone.
"Promise me you'll be okay if I do go." Ashton could feel the doubt clawing away at his heart because even if (Y/n) promised him, he had a feeling she might be lying to him to calm his worries and make him feel better about leaving her here to go out on stage.
"Promise." She kissed the back of his hand which brought an unconscious smile to his face. "Can I sleep in here?"
Her eyes darted between her husband and Luke who was stood to one side, fiddling with the ear plugs hanging around his neck just as Calum and Michael headed into the room.
"You're good to sleep in here babe, don't worry." Ashton punctuated the words with a kiss to her lips, then her cheek, then her temple as (Y/n) tried to slouch down and relax into the sofa.
"I won't sleep through the whole show," she whispered almost as if she were making him another promise, and a grin spread across his lips.
She would try and take a nap and see if it made her feel any better, though she doubted she would be able to when she would hear the show from back here. She would hear the band hyping up the crowd, hear that music that flowed through her like a heartbeat and always managed to liven their baby up.
Hopefully after trying to relax in here for a bit, (Y/n) would be able to head towards the wings of the stage and watch the rest of the show. She didn't want to miss all of it.
***
Part of (Y/n) felt annoyed, not just at herself for the pain her body was making her feel, but at the fact that she had decided to stay here in the dressing room. She thought it would have been easier, she presumed she might be able to get some rest, catch a few minutes of sleep to try and make herself feel better.
Why on Earth had she thought that?
The pain she was in had only increased. The aches had turned into deep rooted pulses of pain that flowed with her heartbeat and came and went in crushing waves. Her headache had been replaced with odd fluctuations of hot and cold, one moment feeling like she was burning up and then the next she was shivering in a cold sweat.
Sleep had been impossible. The only thing that proved a good distraction to (Y/n) was to listen to the show and try to hum along to each song and murmur the words to try and distract herself and take her mind off her discomfort.
She shouldn't have stayed here in the dressing room. (Y/n) should have made a slow walk to the wings beside the stage and watched the performance like she usually did. She should have gone to watch so that she could properly distract herself, so she could show her support for the band and take her mind off the irritating discomfort that was shifting into a worsening sense of pain. A pain which amplified each time the baby tried to move around.
Her hands planted down on the sofa either side of her and with great difficulty, she managed to push herself up into a sitting position as a striking pain thumped from her lower back round to her abdomen.
Tears began to well in her eyes as she told herself that she was going to have to move from here.
Either to to the wings and try to watch the show, or go there to find someone and ask for some help, because (Y/n) knew she couldn't sit here any longer like this. The show was barely an hour in, there was still a third section to perform and (Y/n) wasn't sure she could sit through it for much longer.
She used the arm of the sofa to push herself up to her feet, but standing up made (Y/n) feel like gravity had a much more severe hold over her than it usually did. It felt like gravity was yanking her down, trying to get her as close as it could manage.
Her upper body leant forward almost out of instinct, but a horrid oump of air expelled from her throat when she felt an awful shift in her stomach.
She looked down, tilting her head unnaturally slow towards the floor while one hand moved to cup her stomach.
Oh no.
A surge of tears began to fall from her eyes when she grasped the hem of her dress and pulled it up to glance at the maternity shorts she was wearing underneath. They were wet. Her waters had broken.
Oh God. Did this mean that the aches and the discomfort she had been feeling all day- probably during last night too- had been the start of labour? Exactly how long had she been in labour for already without realising?
What a fine time to have the baby. Three weeks early. One week before the tour was scheduled to have a month's break.
Why was her body doing this to her now? Why couldn't it wait one week? Just a few more days? Even a few more hours, couldn't this of happened late into the night- then again they would have been on the tour bus, driving in the middle of nowhere. This was both a blessing and a curse.
Dropping the hem of her dress back down, she tried to take a deep breath and walk forwards. Waiting in here wasn't going to do her any good; (Y/n) knew for a fact that the band had told everyone else not to come in here, that she was resting and trying to sleep and just to leave her be. No one was going to come in and disturb her, and she couldn't sit in here with labour progressing and no one knowing, no source of help at all.
Her legs once again felt like the bones had melted, like they were nothing but hollow flesh that she could barely control. They were as thin and brittle as matchsticks that were threatening to snap in two.
Once she was out in the corridor, (Y/n) leant against the wall for support and tried to hold herself upright. She tried to walk like nothing was wrong, like there was no issue or illness or anything wrong with her at all. She wanted help, but not the kind where people would grab at her and fuss over her and make her feel overwhelmed.
A swell of relief lit up her chest like an illuminating star when she took note of the song that was playing out on stage. The band would be having their two minute break around about now. They would be playing one of their pre-recorded videos on screen, giving them chance to get off the stage so it could be cleared of confetti and prepped and they could have a drink before they could get back out there for the last segment of the show.
If they were coming backstage then (Y/n) could grab Ashton without fuss, without having to ask someone to go out on stage and interrupt the show to get him for her. This would be quick and quiet and easy.
Although she wasn't sure she could make it all the way back to the stage with how slow she was walking and how the pains- which she realised must now be contractions- were getting stronger and more frequent.
She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry when one of the arena crew suddenly turned down the corridor and aimed in (Y/n)'s direction, clearly focused in whatever paperwork she had in front of her.
The lady did come to an abrupt stop when she realised someone was in front of her, and when she looked up from her paperwork, a rather mortified look flooded her face as she took in (Y/n)'s state.
"Oh, are you okay?"
There was no point trying to fake a smile when it clearly wasn't going to happen and it was too much effort to try. (Y/n) gave a little shake of her head, still leaning against the wall, as she looked up at the girl opposite her.
"Get Ash, please. Get him." Tears were still trickling down her face and she could hear the change in the speakers, the loud clamour, the echoing of the crowd simmering down for the video to start playing. The band would be coming off stage now and (Y/n) couldn't speed up- she could barely move at all- to grab Ashton before he went back out on stage.
Someone was going to have to get him for her and give her a helping hand here.
The girl muttered something, but (Y/n) couldn't hear the response over the ringing in her ears. She closed her eyes once she watched the girl spin on her heels and head back in the direction she had just come from. (Y/n) laid her cheek against her hand that was glued against the wall and slumped herself to the right, there wasn't much point walking any further when she was going to have to sit down soon.
And she wasn't going to sit down anywhere up there with a crowd gathering round her and spectating. She didn't want to be watched and observed by anyone.
Deep breaths raged past her lips in an uneven rhythm that made her chest heave and her lungs burn.
It was getting worse by the second.
(Y/n) almost didn't hear the pounding, echoing stomping from Ashton's boots that seemed to coincide with the rapid thumping of her pulse in her ears that started to feel like a bell constantly ringing inside her head. It wasn't until his voice broke through the echos that she actually forced herself to open her eyes and look around through bleary eyes for him.
"Babe, baby what's going on? What's wrong?"
Terror swarmed through Ashton's voice as he aimed towards her, arms outstretched until his hands could finally curl around her arms and gently pull her off the wall and lean her towards him instead. He was surprised at the grip she had when her hands grasped at his bare arms, nails pinching into his biceps that were doused with sweat and burning red through the thin tan he'd acquired.
Her temple merged with his shoulder and she leant forward into him making him fear for a dreaded moment that she might end up collapsing or fainting.
"My water broke," she whimpered against his skin, feeling his hands shifting to find purchase on her hips to have a more secure hold on her. She felt the way he leant towards her and she realised he was trying to look down over her shoulder, looking at her shorts and the hem of her dress to reassure himself that he'd heard her right.
"It's okay, it's alright…" he took a quick look around but as he suspected, the only person in the corridor was the arena staff who had almost given him a heart attack when she collared him a minute ago. "Can you go find a medic please, and grab Luke for me too?"
She disappeared without a word to do as requested. Ashton had barely stepped off the stage when he had seen her waving her hand at him, flagging him down and beckoning him towards her. He hadn't felt much better when she'd hurriedly pointed behind her and said his wife was was having some kind of emergency and needed him. Now.
"Let's go sit back down, baby, it's all good, we'll get to the nearest hospital soon and have this baby."
With his hands still on her hips, Ashton carefully turned himself around so he was walking backwards, carefully guiding (Y/n) along with him to aim for the dressing room again. Standing here in the corridor wasn't going to do her any favours, she needed to sit and stay calm and comfortable until they could get to whatever hospital was the closest to this arena.
"T- the tour," (Y/n) kept her face buried in his chest, voice quiet and feeble as she squeezed his arms and let him guide her back into the dressing room.
This wasn't part of the plan. This wasn't supposed to happen now. When the tour had been planned out, Ashton had made it clear he was going to need a break part-way through so he could be at the birth and have a little bit of time with (Y/n) and the baby before they set off on the road again. The whole point of the one month break in the middle of the tour was precisely for (Y/n) to have the baby and have no disruptions to the tour.
She had gone and messed that all up now by being three weeks early.
She felt Ashton's lips against the top of her head, quietly silencing her worries. "The tour will just have to wait a while, it's not like you planned this, hm?"
No one was going to hold this against her; it wasn't something that could be helped. Labour was a tricky business, it didn't follow a strict schedule like the rest of them did on this tour, and it was something they had considered and taken into account when they started this whole tour.
Backing into the room, Ashton guided (Y/n) towards the sofa and kept hold of her as he eased her down before sinking down beside her with a soft sigh. His right arm stretched out across the back of her shoulders, letting her slouch into his side while his other hand found her thigh.
He could still feel his heart hammering away against his chest, still riding out the adrenaline that was second nature now with each show they played. His skin had gone cold despite the sweat dripping off him and he could feel his hair sticking to his temple, his curls deflated and soaked through by now. At least he could have a break now.
"Hey, you needed something?" Luke rapped his knuckles on the door he was clinging to, poking his head round to get a quick glimpse of the couple.
He wasn't sure why he had been called or what was going on in here and he didn't want to intrude on their privacy if they just needed a quick hand with something or a quick question to ask him.
"Uh," Ashton blinked, trying to get his mind into focus with all the thoughts rushing through his mind right now. "Looks like we're having a baby. Now. What do you wanna do, go on without me or make a call and end the night now?"
There wasn't much else that they could do. Ashton didn't care either way. If the band wanted to go ahead and sing a few of the slower songs without him, break out the accoustic guitars and do Amnesia or Ghost Of You or a calm selection like that, then that was fine by him. He didn't care if they went on without him, if they wanted to make it up to the fans like that before calling it a night and ending the show early.
It seemed like a good idea considering they had barely gotten through the show and it was now abruptly ending tonight. Not that there was anything they could do about it, and Ashton wasn't going back out there to finish the show, not when (Y/n) was clearly in active labour back here. He wasn't missing a moment of this, his place was here.
"Oh God, oh. We'll go explain it to the crowd and call it a night, then we can make any calls and arrangements you need. Grab your stuff, be down at the hospital with you later. I'll go tell Mike and Cal."
Ashton nodded, relieved and grateful as Luke pelted from the doorway, slamming the door closed behind him.
The band would happily call family for them if needed, let people know what was happening. They would help pack up here, grab (Y/n) and Ashton's things and take anything they needed from the tour bus down to the hospital for them. They would be there when (Y/n) had the baby; they were family, they looked out for each other.
The next time the door opened, it was two paramedics who must have been in one of the many ambulances parked outside just in case there were any accidents or any of the crowd fainted or became ill.
(Y/n) felt like she was about to slide off the sofa. Each time she suffered a contraction, her knees quaked, her shoes slid against the floor and she was about to slouch down if it weren't for Ashton's arms around her, keeping her from going down too far and hurting herself or ending up on the floor.
"Hi, we heard someone's having a baby in here?" The medic's voice was kind and she wore a bright smile that made (Y/n) feel a bit calmer, but she couldn't find the will to talk.
It was Ashton who spoke up for them both, who explained and gave (Y/n)'s name, details and so on about how far along she was and how uncomfortable she'd been all day.
When the medic knelt beside her and asked if she was okay to check (Y/n) over, blood pressure, breathing and then an exam, all (Y/n) could do was nod and whisper "I feel sick."
"That's normal, that's okay."
The blood pressure cuff made her sickness increase and she had to close her eyes and flop her head back onto Ashton's shoulder to make the dizziness go away. She wasn't keen on the pelvic exam either, having to shimmy out of her shorts and have someone- a total stranger- check her over, but it was necessary and the pains were bad enough that (Y/n) felt like she was being carved in two.
"We're gonna need a supply bag." The medic, who's name tag read Katrina, turned to look over her shoulder at her partner who was quick to nod and leave the room.
That was enough to have goosebumps rising on (Y/n)'s skin like heckles turning up and she opened her bleak eyes, shuddering as she stared up at Ashton in utter terror that he must have clearly read on her face becaus ehis hand tightened around her waist. He sat forward, knees suddenly jerking up and down in anxious habit as he leant down towards Katrina.
"Wh- what? Why, what's wrong?" Ashton tried not to clench his left hand that was resting on (Y/n)'s thigh, not wanting to hurt or frighten her but he could feel his heart hammering away against his ribs in panic. He didn't like the sound of that.
Was something wrong? Was there a problem with the baby? Was there an issue here, was (Y/n) experiencing some bad side effect or something?
"It's too late to move you, I'm sorry-"
"No, I- no," (Y/n) shook her head before her teeth clamped down on her tongue so sharply during the next contraction that she ended up tasting blood welling in her mouth.
She knew what that was implying, and she didn't want to believe it. That couldn't be right. It couldn't be true; she was wrong.
Katrina looked sympathetic as she sank back on her heels, gloved hands resting on her lap as she looked up at (Y/n) with eyes full of understanding which made (Y/n) almost irritable.
"You're nearly fully dilated, if we try and get you in the ambulance now, you could have the baby on route. It's much safer to stay here where we can control the environment and have things to hand. As soon as you have the baby, we can take you for checks and post-natal care."
A mewling cry broke past (Y/n)'s lips and her head hung forward, eyes snapping closed as she swallowed the bitter taste of blood in her mouth. Both hands curled around Ashton's arm that was around her front and she leant into him as he curved around her like a blanket, reeling her towards his chest. The feeling of his lips against the top of her head was soothing enough to stop some of the terror from swarming through her chest.
"It's okay, hey, you're comfy and safer here than in the back of an ambulance, and we've got help. It's all okay baby, just breathe."
This might not be how they wanted it to happen, but they couldn't do much about that now. This was where they found themselves, and this wasn't a horrid situation to be in. Ashton would rather have the baby here than in the back of an ambulance where they would be cramped and unsteady and in a heated mess.
This was okay, this was safe, this was their best option.
The world seemed to blurr around (Y/n) as the contractions melted into one horrendous wae that she couldn't see past. It shrouded everything, her sight, her hearing, even her sense of touch felt distorted.
It felt like she was trapped in a bubble that no one else could see or was a part of. She couldn't keep her eyes open or in focus enough to see them all moving about, getting things ready as the second medic came back with a large duffle bag, and someone else brought in a few things, probably towels and water; they had a lot of those hanging around the stage for the band.
She was sure she could hear the band outside; the corridor sounded like it was full of chaos. Hundreds of footsteps crashing about, people colliding and moving in a frenzy.
(Y/n) knew she heard the door open and close at least five times, and on one of those times, she head Michael's voice snapping through the air like a whip, though it sounded like she was hearing him from under water.
"Everybody out! They're having a baby, they don't need an audience."
Everything seemed to move at double speed after that. Towels over her lap and beneath her, the medics getting closer, their voices raising and combining and turning her head into pounding static. All (Y/n) wanted was to shut her eyes and have everything end, have it all sort itself out around her.
It didn't feel right, sitting on the sofa. (Y/n) felt like she was slouched back, like she wasn't able to push without wavering and sinking even further down. She didn't want to lie down, and she didn't want to sit like this with her trembling legs trying and failing to keep her in place in her seat.
Her nails scratched into the seat as she cried and let herself move forwards towards the edge of the sofa until Ashton's hands were hurriedly clutching at her. One arm going around her waist as the other went around her back and held onto her arm.
"Baby- baby you're gonna fall-"
"Need- I need to move," She whined, crying out as she flopped her hand towards the floor to get her point across. She wanted to sit on the floor, that was the only way she was going to feel safe and stable and not feel so unsteady and unsupported by her wavering, jelly legs.
"Then let me help." Ashton soothed, though there was an edge to his voice that begged her not to move without him. He needed to help before she have herself an injury.
His arms stayed tight around her and he moved off the sofa, stood in a crouching position while the medic shuffled back to make room and quickly spread a few towels on the floor in preparation.
"Come here," he murmured against her hair, lifting her and helping to slide her down to the floor as carefully as he possibly could.
Once she was sat down, (Y/n) slumped her back against the sofa, feeling much better at being supported to sit up without risk of sliding down or losing her posture. She felt Ashton kneel beside her, arms still around her and his lips meshed against her cheek as he reached down to take one of her hands in his so she could squeeze as tightly as she needed to get through the pain.
"Big pushes and deep breaths, you're doing great, crowning already."
Tears streamed down her face as she coiled Ashton's hand towards her chest and pushed her chin down, breathing through gritted teeth. Her pulse seemed to radiate through and off of her like a beat from the speakers and a scream tore past her lips, shaking the walls as her feet dug into the floor to ground herself and keep steady.
She felt like she had imagined those words of "The head's out now," and she tried to let the tension leave her system for a few seconds, gasping for breath as she leant to the left towards Ashton's chest.
She knew she had heard right when she heard him laughing breathlessly, leaning forwards to try and see.
"No show's ever gonna compare to this." Ashton murmured the words against her ear, eyes closed as his temple rested gently against the top of (Y/n)'s head.
He knew no matter what that any other show he performed with the band, whether during this tour or the next, was never going to surpass what was happening tonight at this show. He was never going to get the same adrenaline high that he was sitting right here, watching his baby being born.
Any other show he performed on the rest of this tour was just going to remind him of what had happened backstage, what miracle he had witnessed here. No other show was going to be the same as this one here tonight.
"You're amazing, you know that?"
(Y/n) wasn't sure she felt amazing, but the ghost of a smile traced over her lips before she sank her teeth down into her lower lip to try and morph the next cry that wranlged out of her throat. She tensed to the point she was shaking, constantly leaning to the left like she was about to topple over if it weren't for Ashton's chest and the sofa propping her up.
Her legs were tremoring against the floor and her heels ached from digging into the floor, but it didn't matter.
All that mattered was the medic telling her to push again, to keep going, that she was almost there.
And over the white noise that flooded (Y/n)'s ears, she heard a mewling cry that seemed to touch her heart and send it rocketing up into her throat. Her head buried into the crook of Ashton's neck, breaths harsh and rasping against his skin and her eyes closed to stop the spots that were dancing in front of her eyes.
It felt like her chest was going to explode, like one more breath was going to push her over the edge and make everything stop. Eerything would fall apart if she took a deeper breath and ripped herself apart, even though she felt like she was already torn in two from the experience she had just endured.
Little panting breaths were all that (Y/n) could manage until everything within her would calm down, but it didn't matter.
When she opened her eyes that were still flecked with white spots, she saw the medic reaching forwards to carefully hand the small bundle wrapped in a towel towards her.
"Congratulations, you've got a healthy little boy there."
(Y/n) wasn't sure her arms would work and she realised she was trembling worse than she thought when she took hold of that small life and cradled him close to her chest.
Tears continued to stream from her eyes and she turned her head, pressing a slow, wet kiss to Ashton's lips that were salty from the tears already streaming from his own eyes that he didn't bother to hide or wipe away.
"He clearly wanted a show of his own tonight." Ashton murmured against her lips, reaching his hand down to cradle the back of his boy's head while he felt himself jittering with enough adrenaline that surely it should have given him a heart attack by now.
They weren't sure who it was who so tepidly rapped their knuckles against the door, but it was Luke who poked his head round and quickly locked his eyes onto Ashton. He rose a brow, a grin spreading across his lips when he took in the scene in front of him.
"All good in here?"
"All good."
"And…" Luke drawled, looking down at the bundle in (Y/n)'s arms as anticipation rolled through him and seemed to be flooding the air in the corridor.
All of them had been gathered around. The band, their partners and families, along with their tour management team and then the arena crew who were trying to keep everyone else away from this already crowded corridor. They had been waiting in the dressing room next door but now they were all out here gathering to find out any news they could.
"We've got a boy." Ashton's grin beamed from ear to ear, eyes constantly darting between his family and his band mate who was jittering as he hung onto the door where cheers errupted behind him.
All of them would come in soon and give their proper congratulations once everything calmed down, once (Y/n) and the baby had properly been checked over.
Although the quick picture Luke took of the trio, a zoomed in photo that showed the couple cradling a partially hidden bundle in their arms, would soon be going up on the 5sos account. A little memento to show them why tonight's show had ended early and to let them know that everything was fine.
