5SOS one shots (boys x Reader)


27. what Is i t

“What is it?” 


“Open it and see, you dork,” Ashton laughs, and Y/N scoffs, rolling her eyes— but she does as he’s asked. And then her eyes are widening slightly before she’s looking back at him, with furrowed brows. Ashton darts his eyes away from hers, because he’s embarrassed.


But then he’s just looking back at her again. Because he can’t not look at her. He licks at his suddenly dry as hell lips, shrugging a shoulder. “Just— you know. Thought you’d like it,” he says, quietly, because he’s suddenly feeling so fucking insecure because it’s not just something that he thought that she’d like. It’s something that has so much more meaning behind, so much more intent and feeling, but now that he’s giving it to her— he doesn’t think he’ll have the guts to say it.


She smiles, though, and thanks him in a tone that he can’t place, and she pulls the silver ring out of the box. It’s plain, the only details being little cut-outs of the brand’s logo, but it’s a nice ring. And it is something that she likes.


But then she’s trying it on her fingers, and when it only fits on her fourth finger (like he’d hoped), Y/N’s looking back at him. 


Ashton gulps, shrugging again, playing with the ring on his pinky finger. He takes in a deep breath. It’s now or never. “I just. I love you, you know? And, like. I just— I know we’re still young. But. It’s a— ‘s not an engagement ring. ‘s like. A promise, I guess. Something to— something to keep your finger warm till I get you a proper ring, or summat.”


Ashton looks away, because— what if she doesn’t want that? What if she doesn’t want him? What if—


There are fingers under his chin and then he’s looking back at the eyes that he’s long since committed to memory and there are lips on his own. Ashton kisses her back instantly, because every moment that he doesn’t kiss her is a moment wasted, obviously. 


She pulls away, pressing her forehead down unto his. There’s a smile on her lips and her eyes are still shut in content, and Ashton can’t seem to help himself as he leans in and steals another kiss. Or three. 


Y/N laughs lightly, finally pulling away properly, looking at him with the favourite type of glint in her eyes and the favourite smile of hers pulled along her lips. “I love it. I love you more, though. And I can’t fucking wait for that day, either.”


Ashton feels like the luckiest man alive, and he’s not even engaged (yet).



The door slams behind Ashton as he follows in behind her. He’s still fucking glaring at her, like she’s the one who’s in the wrong when she’d done nothing wrong. 


She finally huffs, glaring right back at him. “What the hell is your problem?”


My problem?! What’s my problem?! What the hell is your problem?!” Ashton yells back at her, not even bothering to try to keep from shouting. He points out the door, “You were fucking flirting with every fucking guy at the fucking club! Right in front of me! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”


Y/N gapes at him. “Flirting? When the fuck did I flirt with anyone?” 


“Oh, sorry, are you blind and stupid?” Ashton drawls out, scoffing out a mirthless laugh. Y/N raises a brow, lips parting in disbelief. But Ashton seems to not notice. Or rather— seems to not give a flying shit. “Every fucking guy out there had been eyeing you since you walked in. The least you could’ve done is let them know that you were in a goddamn relationship! You didn’t have to go around fucking flirting with every single one of them!”


“Let me get this straight… You’re blaming me for boys looking at me? Something that is completely out of my control. You’re blaming me for that?” She drawls out, slowly, but laced with utmost disbelief, because— honestly, what the fuck. 


Ashton crosses his arms over his chest, eyes narrowed. “I didn’t see you doing anything to stop them. To tell them that you have a fucking boyfriend.


Y/N stares at him, lips parted in disbelief. She knows that he’s had more alcohol that she did. But he’s not pissed drunk. He’s tipsy, at most. This? This is all pure Ashton. This is seemingly everything that Ashton’s just wanted to yell at her.


Which is something that she doesn’t understand, can’t even begin to comprehend because— he’s getting angry over something that is in no shape or form her fault. He was the one who wanted to go to the club. He was the one who left her to go get them drinks, only to come back after very obviously downing more drinks than necessary at the bar. 


She forces herself to take in a deep breath, telling herself that maybe he’s drunker than she thinks. And while his words still hurt, she should at least let him sober up first before they talk about— this. 


Y/N opens her mouth to say as much, but Ashton beats her to it— “If this is how you act when I’m around then— fuck, how many times have you already fucking— let some guy touch you on the dancefloor? Or,” he scoffs out a laugh. “— or gone home with him?”


And that’s— that’s the final straw. 


She clenches her jaw, staring straight at him. “Fuck you,” she spits out, before she’s making towards the door. 


He’s in the way, so she’s got to get past him. And he doesn’t let it happen. When she tries to shove past him— Ashton reaches out and grabs onto her arm, pulling her back slightly. He’s glaring with a fire that burns in his eyes and is an expression that she’s never seen before, not even in Ashton. 


“Where’re you gonna go, huh? To one of your fuck buddies? How many of those have you got?” He asks in an almost condescending tone.


She practically rips her arms out of his grip, glaring back at him. “None, because I’m not a fucking cheater, you prick.


Ashton scoffs out a laugh, completely devoid of any happiness. “Yeah, sure,” he drawls out again, and Y/N clenches her jaw so tightly that her teeth grit against each other and it almost hurts as much as the words being thrown at her from the person who means most. 


God, I should’ve realised this would’ve never been worth it,” he mutters, so quietly, more to himself than to her, but— Y/N hears it.


She hears it and it’s like— it’s like every bit of breath is stripped away from her and every bit of fight left in her is knocked out of her. Because this is Ashton. This is the boy that she’s in love with. This is the boy who has the biggest heart that she thinks has ever existed. This is the boy who loves deeply and widely. This is the boy whose smile lights up streets, whose laugh would instantly make you smile, even when you feel like smiling is the hardest thing in the world to do. 


But the person in front of her right now is a goddamn stranger. This isn’t Ashton. At least— not the Ashton that she fell in love with, not the one that she’d planned to marry someday. 


“Not worth it?” She echoes, and Ashton looks at her. 


(If she’d looked closely, she would notice the widened eyes. The almost horrified expression. The way he looks like he wants to say something, say so many thing, but he— can’t. But she’s not looking closely, is she?)


“Fine,” she breathes out, then she’s scoffing out a harsh laugh. “Fine. Not worth it. Then— we’re done. Wouldn’t want you to waste your time and effort in a relationship that you never thought was worth it. don’t want to waste my time and energy being with someone who clearly doesn’t have the same end goals that I do.”


And she turns on her heel, ready to head straight out the door, ignoring the faint, “Wait, Y/N—” from behind. Until she realises something, and she turns again, pulling at the ring on her finger, placing it on the little side table with more force than necessary. 


“What a fucking bullshit promise that was,” she ends up muttering out loud, and it carries to Ashton’s ears, because he makes another sound— a pathetic sound that kind of makes her want to make sure that he’s okay but. No. She won’t. 


Wait,” he calls out again, this time his voice is almost strained. She doesn’t wait, doesn’t turn, because why the fuck should she? “Y/N, please. I—”


She clenches her jaw, steadfastly not turning to look at him and continuing on her way out the door. Her insides hurt and her heart feels like it’s already breaking but— this is what Ashton wants. He said it wasn’t worth it. He’s the one who doesn’t trust her. So she will not give in. She deserves better. 


(But there is a voice in the back of mind that screams at her— says that Ashton’s as good as it’ll ever get because she’s so, so, so in love with him and she thought that he was it and—)


“I’m sorry, fuck, I didn’t— I didn’t mean to say that, I swear, I just—” he splutters out, a string of words pouring out of his mouth. 


Y/N’s got a hand on the door handle, but there are fingers wrapping around her other wrist. She turns her head to look—glare—at him, yanking her wrist out of his hold like his touch burns when all it does is make her feel at ease even when she’s mad at him. (She hates it.)


Ashton raises his hand up in a surrendering position, eyes wide and glistening. He’s got the ring that she’s just rid herself of in the palm of his other hand. She doesn’t even know when he’d taken it. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I just— I swear, I didn’t mean to. I— I. Fuck. I’m stupid and fucking insecure, I know that, and I know you wouldn’t cheat on me, but I just— I’m drunk, and I was angry at myself, not at you, because—”


He stops, chest heaving up and down rapidly like he’s just run a damn marathon. His eyes are still wide, maybe even a little crazed. 


Fuck off,” she nearly laughs out. “You’re not drunk enough to use it as an excuse. This? This is all you.”


“No. No, it’s— I’m just. You know I love you. You know I want to— I want this. You fucking know that you mean the fucking world to me, you always have. You always will. I just— I was mad at myself because— I saw, fucking firsthand, how many people want you, and how you could have anyone, but then— you— you’re with me. The dick who isn’t even in the same country as you are, and—”


He very nearly heaves with his next breath. He holds a hand up, ring between his pointer finger and thumb. “I meant it when I said I wanted to marry you. I still fucking do, of course I do. I know I don’t deserve you, that you should be with someone— someone better in every fucking conceivable way, but— fucking hell, I want to be the one to marry you. That wasn’t a lie. That wasn’t a false promise. That was the— that is the promise that I swear to God I’m going to keep.”


She doesn’t say anything. 


All she does is stare at him, breathing almost as heavily as he is, even though she’s said nowhere near as much as he’s just spewed out. But her ears ring with his words and her jaw is still clenched and she wants to walk away—God, she wants to walk away so badly—but she doesn’t think she’s physically capable of walking away from the boy that she’s sure she’s going to never stop loving because she’s weak, weak, weak, and Ashton has her heart in the palm of his hands and she thinks that he doesn’t even know it.


“Please, Y/N. I’m begging you,” Ashton nearly whispers out, eyes a shade of stained glass. “If you want to walk out right now, not even be near me, I’ll understand. But— fuck. Please don’t leave without this. Please let me at least try to keep this promise. Please.

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