5SOS one shots (boys x Reader)


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18. No..

Y/N looks up from her laptop screen as the front door is pushed open and there’s sounds of keys jingling before they’re landing on the little table where they usually throw their keys and spare change. She’s instantly painting a smile onto her lips, ready to remove the laptop from her lap but then Ashton's basically storming in without even a glance in her direction.   

 

And, like, okay. Everyone has bad days. Today was probably just one of Ashton’s. (And Y/N’s kind of been feeling like shit for the entirety of the day and the day prior but she’s the type of person to put others first, so she’ll shove her feelings aside and see if Ashton’s okay first and pretend that she’s completely fine.)   

 

So Y/N gets to her feet, shutting her laptop off and then she’s about to go to the bedroom to see if he’s okay and wanted her to make something, or maybe order in pizza or Chinese food, or something. She barely makes it a step before Ashton’s coming back into her view and he’s no longer in the clothes he was in when he walked in. He had changed, replaced the beanie with a bandana and she could smell the cologne he’d sprayed on from miles away.    

 

“Hey,” she says softly, and he glances up, offering her a tight smile.    

 

“Hi,” he replies shortly, going to the little mirror to adjust his hair.    

 

“Going somewhere?” She asks, still smiling slightly.  

 

 "Yeah,“ he nods and his tone is clipped. Then once he’s done with fiddling with his hair, he turns on his heel, walking towards the door to leave.   

 

Y/N frowns lightly, "You’re sure you want to, um, go out?” She asks hesitantly. “You look tired, Ash. You need to rest and I think – ”   

 

“– Jesus Christ, just fuck off, Y/N,” Ashton spits as soon as he turns to looks at her. His tone’s filled with venom and his eyes shine brighter than before – and it’s not because he’s happy. “I’m not a fucking child. I can take care of myself so fucking piss off and leave me alone.”   

 

“Ash, I – ” she starts, only to get cut off by him again.    

 

“Shut the fuck up, my God,” he groans. “I want to go out, so why can’t you just leave it at that? Jesus, you don’t fucking control my life, okay? This is why I’m even going out,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes. "You’re so fucking annoying,“ he hisses and then without another word, he’s gone. Out the door, the piece of wood slamming behind him.    

 

And Y/N’s left there, staring at the door – mouth slightly agape and heart surely chipping off with each heartbeat.    

 

—   

 

Y/N finds herself sat on the middle of the bed, cross-legged with an open notebook in front of her and a pen in hand. She’d long swallowed whatever tears that were trying to desperately to make themselves known and was currently just idly writing in her notebook. Not even writing, actually. Just doodling random shapes and words and song lyrics and quotes.    

 

Her music’s on shuffle and so far, that’s the only thing that’s stopped her from crying. Then it goes to a La Dispute song. La Dispute’s a great band, really, it’s just that all their songs are so sad and of course, the song that decides to play is the song that makes her want to sob even if she’s been having a good day and.    

 

Her glassy eyes dart down to the page she’s doodling on. It’s almost full. So she turns to a new, blank page.    

 

And it’s at that moment that the second half of the song starts, and she’s sadder than before. Stupid song. Her hands move mindlessly, without her even fully paying attention to what she's writing, till a tear lands on the paper and she snaps out of her daze.  

 

Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?

 

Makes her wonder, really. Like, she’s not depressed, yeah? But she’s finding it harder and harder to be okay as each day goes by and Ashton being a twat on that one day that she was also feeling like shit didn’t really help. She’s not depressed because she knows she’s got kind of a good life, with loving friends and family, a great boyfriend (under normal circumstances) and she's okay. She’s not depressed. She’s okay.    

 

But then, on some nights, she finds herself wondering what would happen if she died tomorrow? Would anyone care at all? Would anyone even be the slightest bit upset? Would anyone even notice? Then she’s thinking things like, you know what? If I die today, that’s okay. I don’t mind it. In fact, if I get hit by a car, thank the driver. If I get mugged and shot, thank the mugger. 

 

Because they had the guts to do what I’d never be able to.

 

The door’s pushed open after a single knock then, and Calum walks in with a little grin on his face. The grin drops though, as he takes in the sight of silent tears running down Y/N’s face. And he doesn’t say anything, he just walks in and joins her on the bed, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. She startles, but then she leans into him because it’s nice to get comfort.    

 

Calum takes one glance at the notebook and he tenses, but then he’s just hugging her tighter.    

 

Because she’d added something to the bottom of that question. She’d added something that she was actually conscious of writing.  

 

I don’t know but I hope so, because I’ve already lived through hell. I deserve to go to heaven, even if I kill myself.

 

—   

 

"Y/N,” comes a voice and then her shoulder’s being shaken. She slowly opens her eyes, making a small whining sound at the back of her throat whilst simultaneously trying to push away whatever’s trying to her wake up. But they don’t give up, shaking her shoulder again, “Y/N.” It’s firmer this time.    

 

Y/N groans, finally opening her eyes fully and then having them widen the smallest bit as she takes in the sight of Ashton in front of her. “Yeah?” She mumbles sleepily, rubbing at her eyes whilst sitting up on the lounge. (Calum and her had eventually went to the lounge room and watched reruns of TV shows, after she’d calmed down and then pretended like whatever had just happened didn’t happen at all.)   

 

“What is this?” He spits, throwing something so that it lands next to her on the lounge.    

 

“What…” she mumbles to herself, brows knotting together in the middle of her forehead. Then she sees what he’s thrown onto the lounge and oh. “Where’d you get this?”   

 

“It was on the bed,” Ashton says, eyes narrowing on her. And really, he doesn’t have a right to be angry, so why is he angry? “Why wouldn’t you tell me stuff like this – why would you tell Calum?” He spits out his best mate’s name with such venom that Y/N's genuinely wondering if he’s always secretly hated Calum, or something.    

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?! Don’t you think I should know these kinds of things?!” Ashton finally loses his cool, yelling at he tugs at his hair violently. “I'm your boyfriend! Not fuckin' Calum! If anyone has fucking experience with this, it's me! It’s like you don't trust me! Why wouldn’t you tell me this shit?!”   

 

Y/N doesn’t say anything. She just stays silent, keeping her hands clenched in tight fists whilst still holding onto the notebook because she knows that she’s shaking and if Ashton yells at her again, she's probably going to start crying and for fuck’s sake, she does not want to start crying. And she wants to tell him that she’s okay, and this doesn’t happen all the time. But she can’t because she finds herself thinking about death far too often than it would be able to be considered normal. 

 

“Well?” Ashton demands and his voice is still loud, but he’s not quite yelling anymore.    

 

“Because I was afraid, okay?!” Y/N finally exclaims.   

Ashton’s frown drops and then he just looks fucking heartbroken that it’s breaking her heart. “What?” He asks after a brief moment of silence. His voice is a complete contrast to what it was before. Gone was the anger and venom and loudness. It’s just soft and gentle and… hurt. He’s hurt. She’d hurt him. 

 

“I was afraid,” Y/N repeats quietly, eyes darting to the ground.    

 

“Of what?” He asks almost hesitantly. Y/N doesn’t say anything. She just stays silent, staring at the ground and focusing on that one little spot where they’d dropped something heavy and there was a tiny dent in the floor. Ashton gulps audibly. “Of…,” he sucks in a breath, “– of me?” His voice cracks.   

 

She shakes her head. It’s just the smallest of movement from side-to-side but she does it and he sees it. And Y/N doesn’t see it, but Ashton’s shoulders sag in relief before tensing up once again.    

 

“Then what?” Ashton asks again, his voice still soft and gentle. He takes a cautious step forward, kneeling so that he’s in front of her and either hand going to cup either side of her face. “You know you can tell me anything.”   

 

“I was just… afraid,” Y/N says quietly. “I still am. And, like. I had a shit day, and I thought, like. You usually make my days better, yeah? And then you just… yelled at me, and said I was annoying and, um, I get it. And I was listening to La Dispute and I was thinking too much and,” she shrugs. “I dunno.”   

 

Ashton’s face falls. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I just… I had a shit day, too. Didn’t mean to take it out you. And you’re not annoying, of course you’re not. If anyone’s annoying, it’s me. I must be a pain to put up with, don’t know how you do it, really,” he jokes and Y/N manages a small smile. “I love you, okay? And I know I’m a dick, but you mean a lot to me and…” he sighs, “M'sorry.”   

 

“S'okay,” she mumbles.    

 

Ashton blows out a breath, tilting her head down so that he can place his lips onto her forehead, lingering for a second or two longer than he normally would. Then he pulled his lips away from her skin to kiss her already parted lips.    

 

“Come on,” he mutters quietly, once he’s pulled away and slowly got to his feet.    

 

“Where to?” She asks softly, though she takes his open palm because even she knows that she’d follow him anywhere.   

 

“To the bedroom,” Ashton smiles. “We’re gonna cuddle and watch stupid movies and then, when you’re about to fall asleep, I’m gonna tell you every single reason why I love you. And that’s gonna take a long while.”  

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