Ashton Irwin Imagines

BGM - You Gotta Not

Uhm I'm sorry I haven't been around, one of my family members died unexpectedly and I've had a really rough week

Requested by: @CiaraLucas4

🤙🏻Ashton🤙🏻
Spring cleaning. Or, the time of the year when you forced Ashton to consolidate all of the stuff he acquired while on international adventures so that your shared house didn't look like an episode of Hoarders. Really, it was amazing how many stupid tshirts he would bring home with him. There'd just be piles among piles of things that had to be combed through and then sorted to decide whether to keep it, donate it, or throw it away.

Of course Ashton didn't much like getting rid of his little collections, and often found creative ways to avoid it.

"I'm serious Ashton, tomorrow we're going through the gimmicky NYC tourist shirts, you have thirty seven and that's too many," you whispered just after he turned the lights off for the two of you to go to bed.

There was a mumbled answer and loud footsteps as he climbed in and immediately buried himself under several layers of blankets to avoid further pestering.

It didn't work.

"I'm serious Ashton!" You tried to pull the blankets down but he had a firm grip and the best you could do was speak loudly over where you thought his ears were. "They are taking up half of your closet space. If you don't go through them tomorrow, I will." Your tone was firm, and there was no room for negotiation.

Ashton's countermove was to flip over and roll on top of you, squishing you to the point where you could breathe but not really talk. Clever boy.

"Hmmmm, let's talk about it tomorrow," he yawned and you swore you could see him smirking in the dim light.

There wasn't much you could do but hope he'd be there when you woke up to talk about it, and of course because you hoped, he didn't.

You peeled your eyes open the next morning to a half-empty bed. Looking over at your phone right away, there was a text from Ashton informing you he had an all day session and wouldn't be home until very late. He helpfully suggested not waiting up.

You scoffed at that, he had never had a session like this before without warning you well in advance. It was clear he was only using work as a shield to hide behind, but that was fine. You'd just have to make good on your threat.

So you rolled up your sleeves, got out of bed, and walked into Ashton's closet.

Clothes were everywhere. No longer neatly folded and hung, they looked like they had been scattered by a supernatural weather phenomena categorized with strong wind and some kind of aromatic precipitation that smelled suspiciously like Axe.

If you had to guess, Ashton had tore through his stuff in an early morning haste and hidden all he valued most while discarding the rest as easily accesible sacrifices that would distract you. They however, only kept you preoccupied for a few minutes because you quickly found that twenty of the thirty seven shirts were missing, and figured that Ashton had hid them around the house.

This situation called for a thorough manhunt, and you were just the person for the job because you knew exactly the types of places Ashton would hide things. Namely, out of your reach.