5SOS one shots (boys x Reader)


5. Sad day

It’s a sad day when you realise that the feelings you’ve got for a certain person starts to fade. It’s even worse when you don’t want to stop feeling for them because you still love them so, so much and you don’t want to have to end the relationship but you know that it's unfair because it wouldn’t be fair to the other party.    


What’s even sadder though, is when two people, who are hopelessly in love with each other, just change.


And it’s not a noticeable change, it’s a progressive one. Progressive – like, from constant phone and Skype calls and texts that slowly, slowly, became lesser and lesser and lesser till they just… stopped. The communication stopped and the relationship still exists, but they don’t talk and it's terrible but neither party can do anything about it because they’re both the type of people who are so insecure of themselves and even though they're definitely in love with that other person, still spend time convincing themselves that the other person doesn’t love them.    


Unfortunately, that’s Michael and Y/N.    


They were in love. (They still are, but neither of them are even sure of that anymore.) They were happy and in love, and so sure that the other person was it for them. Then Michael went on tour and all was still well. Skype calls every other night, texts whenever he was in the car or waiting to go on stage or before he went to bed, even if it was to send a good morning text to her as he was going to bed on the other side of the world. Then 5 Seconds of Summer progressively got bigger, which meant that they got busier.    


And again, everything was still okay. Everything was still good. Michael and Y/N still communicated.    


But the busier they got, the lesser and lesser he and Y/N talked. Till it eventually just stopped. Completely stopped. And yeah, it broke both of their hearts, but neither of them made the effort to be the first to contact the other because they thought the feelings of the other had changed or something and they were both scared.    


Michael came back home, though, and everything went (somewhat) back to normal. Michael and Y/N were together again and all was well. Kind of.    


The thing is… Something changed. Something in their relationship changed and they weren’t spending as much time with each other as they thought they would be able to. It wasn’t that they were busy anymore, they just… didn’t spend time with each other, despite both not really having any proper plans.

And really, Michael’s the one who started it. Y/N’s been patient. She’s been not making plans with her mates and staying home alone because she always assumed that maybe today she and Michael could do something, or maybe just chill in the house and watch bad movies and eat junk food and play video games. But every time she did that (that being stay at home), Michael would be out of the house before she even got up (albeit, at around noon, but, like, this is Michael. He rarely wakes up before noon, let alone is out of the house before aforementioned time).    


Y/N put up with it because okay, he’s got other friends. She knows this. And maybe he went to spend time with his family. That’s also okay – of course it is. But then it turns into him going out practically every day and coming home late, sometimes smelling like a mixture of alcohol and different types of perfumes and colognes and it hurts to know that he’d skipped out on a family dinner with her family to go get drunk at some club.    


So she gets tired of waiting around because she’s human, too. And she’s made plans with her friends, and she's excited and she’s all dressed up, only to come face-to-face with a frowning Michael.    


“Where are you going?” Michael asks, still frowning.   


“Out with some friends,” Y/N replies easily, also frowning. “What does it matter?”   


Michael raises an eyebrow, “What does it – never mind,” he scoffs, shaking his head as he turns away.   


Her frown deepens and she reaches out to grab his arm before he starts to walk away. “Hey. What’s up?”   


“Nothing,” Michael practically hisses and then he's basically ripping his arm out of her grip. “Go out with your friends then. I don’t care.”   


“Michael,” she calls out as he starts to walk away, towards the front door.    


Michael doesn’t even grace her with a respond. He just scoffs again and then he’s walking straight out the door and slamming it behind him like she’s just told him to fuck off when she really didn’t say anything. And she’s so fucking confused but she’s already made these plans and has been excited for them since making them so she’s not even going to bother getting worked up over Michael getting worked out.   


And that’s how they carry on. Exactly like that. Basically ignoring each other. Both of them going out with their mates.    


(And one day, when Y/N’s walking to work, she passes by this bar with the double swing doors thing, said doors open and she gets a glimpse inside, seeing Michael with his back against the bar and elbows propped up on the countertop but he’s literally centimetres away from this group of girls that she’s pretty sure were his schoolmates once upon a time. And it’s like she’s been kicked in the gut, but she doesn’t say anything to him about it because she barely sees him and then he’s going out again.)


Y/N finally gets tired of the fucking routine they’ve put themselves through. So she stays home, on the lounge, watching the tele as she waits to Michael to come home. Michael does come home, and she looks up the same time that he looks at the lounge. Their eyes connect and then Michael's looking away as he goes into the bedroom, rolling his eyes.    


She doesn’t follow him into the bedroom. Thinks that she’ll give him some space first, let him shower or whatever. She hears the shower running and then a few minutes later, footsteps are approaching him. However, instead of seeing Michael in joggers and a t-shirt, or something, she sees him looking ready to go out.    


Y/N gets to her feet, following him to the kitchen this time. “Michael,” she calls out as she steps into the kitchen.   


“What?” Michael responds shortly, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of plain water.   


“Where – ” Y/N sighs, shutting her eyes and throwing her head back slightly as she groans. “Where are you going, Mikey?” She asks tiredly, looking back at the boy in question.    


“Why do you care?” Michael scoffs, roughly shutting the fridge door and then slamming the bottle atop the counter. “You don’t want to be around me anyway, right? You’ve got friends, right?” He mocks, scoffing a bit.   


“Are you being serious right now?” She almost gasps. “You're mad about me not staying home on the one day that I’ve got plans with my mates?”   


“One day? One day?!” Michael repeats, voice raising. “This wasn’t just one fuckin’ day, Y/N! You’ve ditched me fuckin’ time and time again for those fuckin' friends of yours! And I've barely seen you since I got home!”   


“You've barely seen me because you’re barely home!” Y/N shoots back in annoyance. “It’s been almost a fucking month and we haven’t even spent any time together because you’re always out! You say that I'm the one always backing out of plans, but I'm not the one who backed out of a family dinner. I'm not the one who forgot our fucking anniversary. I'm not the one who’s been ditching the person that I've supposedly missed so much for schoolmates I haven’t seen or cared about but meet up with anyway just because they’re fit girls!"


Then she scoffs, "Yeah, I noticed. I saw you with them. They were hanging onto you and you were hanging onto them,” she spits out then.    


“Oh, so now you’re fucking spying on me?” Michael scoffs. “Real low, Y/N.”   


“I wasn’t spying on you, you arrogant fuck! I was walking to work, because you know, I’ve got a job – oh wait,” she pauses then letting out the most fake laugh ever. “Of course you don’t know that. Because you don’t even fucking talk to me anymore! The last time we had a fucking conversation was so long ago that I don’t even remember it, for god’s sake!”   


Michael scoffs again, rolling his eyes, “Well, that’s not my fault! You’re the one who doesn’t want to even be in my presence anymore. Got your friends, right?” He mocks again.   


“Why the fuck are we even together anymore?!” Y/N eventually yells, throwing her hands up in exasperation.    


“Fuck knows why,” he practically spits. “I wouldn’t even give a shit if you left.”   


Y/N just looks at him then. They’re both angry and almost red in the face, and they’re breathing heavier and taking in deeper breaths. “Fine,” she says evenly after a proper half a minute of just staring at him. “Well then goodbye,– ” Y/N rolls her eyes, bowing her head down dramatically like a servant would if they were greeting royalty, or something. “– you fucking prick,” Y/N scoffs, then she’s turning on her heel and walking straight out the door.   


I don’t ever ask you where you’ve been

And I don’t feel the need to know who you’re with

I can’t even think straight, but I can tell

That you were just with her


Y/N glances up from the pad of lined paper she’d been glaring at for the past who knows how long. No one can blame her, really. She’s never liked maths. Like, when the fuck would she ever need to use the Fourier series in her lifetime? She doesn’t intend on going into something that would require using aforementioned series. The question she’d copied down from her laptop, onto the paper, is just taunting her now.    


She hears a deep chuckle, then there’s a large hand on her forehead, pulling her head back slightly and then she feels the softest of pressure to the back of her head coming from his lips. “You okay?”   


Y/N gulps. She isn’t even proper looking at him and she’d just gotten a whiff of what he smelled like before he let her head go and she was back to her slightly hunched over position. But she could smell it.


The perfume. It wasn’t cologne. It wasn’t what Michael had spritzed on before he left, earlier that night. This was a women’s perfume and it was so strong.


She bites down on her bottom lip. “Don’t say anything. Don’t ruin it anymore than you probably already did,“ she tells herself, then she’s clearing her throat and turning her head slightly to look at him and pout her bottom lip as though she couldn’t smell the perfume, couldn’t see that his hair was messed up from obviously having hooked up with someone (she would know), couldn’t tell that he’d positioned the collar of his jacket just so that it’s perfectly covering the whole side of his neck.    


"Why am I doing this to myself?” She whines (and maybe she’s also referring to how she’s letting the fact that he’d obviously cheated on her slip past her).   


Michael snorts playfully, “‘Cause you’re dumb,” he says then he’s flashing her a shit-eating grin. “Kidding,” Michael leans forward and plants a kiss on her forehead. (The action’s so mindless and so loving that she almost forgets what she’d observed about him.)


“‘Cause you’re a lil genus and you’re gonna be some hot shot CEO or something. Now continue studying, I need a shower…” he trails off, mumbling the last of his sentence as his phone dings with a new text message and he’s pulling it out of his pocket, walking away.    


(And Y/N can feel her heart slowly shatter as though there’s a little person bringing a jackhammer to her most vital organ because as he pulls open the text and walks away, a smile slips onto his face. The smile so mindless, so loving.)  


I don’t ever tell you how I really feel

‘Cause I can’t find the words to say what I mean

And nothing’s ever easy, that’s what they say

I know I’m not your only


Y/N looks at herself in the mirror, cocks her head to the side a little. She’s going out to meet with a few mates for the night, so she’s dressed up. Put an effort. And she looks nice. She looks pretty and she feels pretty. But no matter how pretty she felt, she still wasn’t good enough for her own goddamn boyfriend.    


She breathes out a shaky breath, finally turning away and then she’s making her way out the bathroom. Michael’s in the lounge room, playing the xbox, probably. When she exits the bathroom though, she can’t hear the sound of gunshots and whatever other sound of whatever game he was playing blasting loudly around the lounge room. Y/N shrugs to herself, going to the kitchen. She’s supposed to meet her mates in fifteen minutes, she’s got time. Time to talk to Michael about how she really wants him to just stay loyal to her.    


Y/N’s in the kitchen for about ten minutes before she hears footsteps entering the kitchen as well. She turns, ready to open her mouth and finally tell Michael what’s been running through her mind when she stops herself because of how Michael’s dressed up, too, the smell of his cologne wafting into her nostrils.    


He shoots her a smile, raising a brow and nodding over at her, “Going out?”   


She clears her throat, “Yeah,” she says with a nod. “I told you, didn’t I? Like, last night?”   


“Oh yeah,” Michael hums, nodding, too. “Well have fun,” he says before he’s turning and about to start walking away.    


“Wait, Mikey,” she says, regretting it the moment the words leave her mouth. He turns, raising a brow and humming in his throat questioningly. Y/N’s tongue darts out to dampen her suddenly dry, dry lips.


Don’t leave. Please stay. I’ll stay, too. We can talk this out. I’m not mad. Just, please stop seeing other people. I’m not doing that to you. Don’t you at least owe me the same?


“Yeah, Y/N?” He prompts when she’s been silent for presumably far too much longer than it would be deemed normal.    


Y/N opens her mouth, but no words come out. Then she’s sighing silently and shaking her head, painting a smile onto her painted lips. “S’nothing. Have a good night, Mikey.”   


“You too, babe,” he grins slightly and then he’s turning on his heel to go out the front door.

And Y/N knows, she knows that this isn’t how it’s supposed to play out. She’s supposed to get a boyfriend who’ll just want her and only her. She got him, for a while. Then things changed and now she was just another girl to him, and it sucked and it wasn’t right. But Y/N couldn’t walk away no matter how much she wanted to because all she ever wanted, all she ever needed, was just a little bit of his heart.

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