5 Seconds Of Summer Imagines

Ashton Imagine

You hear a crash outside your house, startling you and causing you to rush towards the cause of the disturbance. As you pull open the door to your house, Ashton stumbles into view on your porch, his hair dishevelled, clothing creased and eyes bloodshot. Clear signs he's intoxicated, something you don't want to deal with but, as his best friend, you know it's your responsibility and you have to.

He can barely stand up straight, he's mumbling to himself and you barely catch any of the words leaving his mouth, apart from the odd profanity. He seems angry, either with someone or himself, you're not sure which. You don't want to interrupt his quiet ranting but know you need to before he hurts himself, whilst in the process of taking his anger out on something.

"Fuck." He blurts out as he trips over his own two feet, almost colliding with the floor but hitting the wall next to where you're standing instead. You reach out to hold him up by his arms, as your hands grip onto his he roughly pulls away and swats your hands off of himself. "Don't." He grumbles at you, showing just how annoyed he really is.

"Ash, come on. Let's get you inside and sat down, alright?" You softly say to him, your tone soothing in the hopes he will calm down and willingly let you help him into the house. You reach an arm out again to help him in and he pushes you away, not rough but not exactly gentle either.

"I said don't. Don't touch me, this is all your fault." He growls at you, causing you to step away from him at his tone. You're confused, your brows furrowed as your eyes look over him trying to determine where his rage is coming from and why it's aimed at you. He continuously mutters to himself under his breath, repeating how it's your fault. You're unsure what for, you hadn't spoken to him all day and he turns up at yours unexpectedly and drunk.

"What's my fault?" You nervously ask, anxiously waiting for his response which he takes his time with. You watch him as he clumsily paces back and forth in front of you, his hands pulling at his messy hair in frustration whilst you barely move an inch in fear he will snap at you again.

"I'm broken and can't move on, all because of you." He fumes, his voice quiet but holding an edge that keeps you fixated in place. He hasn't stopped fisting at his hair or walking yet, making you wonder how you could have possibly made him this way.

"I'm sorry?" You try and apologise but it ends up as more of a question due to you still not fully understanding the situation you're in. He stops pacing, his back to you and you can see his shoulders tense up, like he's stopping himself from blowing up at you but you know it will come out regardless.

"Are you? Are you really sorry, Y/N?" He says through gritted teeth. You brace yourself, preparing for him to yell at you. He turns to you quickly, his eyes glossy and not from being inebriated. He rubs at his eyes, trying to dry them but fails, the tears welling back up in them. "Why would you be sorry, if you're the one causing me all of this pain?" He yells at you, the tears beginning to fall from his eyes, wetting his cheeks.

"Me? What have I even done?" Your voice remains quiet, not wanting to challenge Ashton when he's this angry and upset. You're trying your hardest to not cry in front of him, not wanting to seem weak or like his words are getting to you.

"Everything." He shouts at you, you flinch away from the sound and you can feel your anxiety getting the better of you. "Just everything. Being you. You're always there." His voice trails off, becoming sad towards the end as the tears escape not only his eyes but yours as well, the familiar sting making its appearance to you.

"I'll leave then." You whisper out, barely audible as you turn to go back into your house, leaving a drunken Ashton on your door step.

"Why can't I have you?" You hear him cry out to you, his voice desperate and needy, making you stop in your tracks and your breath hitch at his questioning. "I just want to be able to call you mine." You don't need to turn around to see that he is beyond broken and hurt. When you look at him you see his face covered by his hands, as he gently sobs resulting in his shoulders shaking. You want to approach, to hold him and comfort him but you're scared he will have another outburst at you and push you away. You barely survived it moments ago, feeling your heart strings tug just watching him now, you don't think you'd survive the next one.

"What the hell is stopping you then?" You question, your voice coming out high due to the dryness of your throat and the wetness of your eyes. He slowly looks up at you, his light hair sticking up in odd angles, his eyes puffy and red from the tears that are still falling. He opens his mouth slightly, closing it again and repeating, like he's at a loss for words.

"Don't." You furrow your brow in confusion, wondering why he's saying that again. Before you can open your mouth to reply he cuts you off to continue. "Don't say things like that. Things that can get my hopes up, so that I can think that maybe, just maybe, you could have feelings for me in the same way that I do for you." He rambles getting frustrated again, walking closer to you as he yells in your face, causing you to get a backbone and stand up for yourself.

"Have you ever even thought that maybe I do have feelings for you?" You scream at him, stretching your body to stand at its full height to possibly intimidate him more. "It's all about you, Ashton. This whole conversation has been about you not being able to have me, you feeling something that I may not return or you feeling pain for me constantly being around. Well, what if I feel those things as well, Ashton?" You voice grows louder the longer you talk, all your pent up rage coming out and it's all aimed at your best friend.

"Why would you ever love someone like me, Y/N?" He softly cries, his words distressed and quiet, and it makes your chest tighten to see him so vulnerable in front of you.

"Why wouldn't I would be an easier question." You state to him, tears blurring your vision again as you see his face rise so that his bloodshot, hazel eyes are gazing into yours. You both stand there for what feels like an eternity before you break the silence. "Please, kiss me." You whisper out and he takes barely a second to respond, stepping forward and gently cupping your face in his hands and pressing his chapped lips onto yours.

You can taste the liquor on his breath and, even though you usually find it disgusting, this is somewhat endearing causing you deepen the kiss tilting your head to the side as your hands fist at the front of his t-shirt pulling him closer to you. He breaks the kiss, his lips still brushing yours as he breathes heavily, with his eyes closed and leans his forehead against yours.

"I've always wanted to do that." He breathes out, a lazy smile on his face, either from his still slightly intoxicated state or from the dizzying kiss you both just experienced.