5SOS one shots (boys x Reader)


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55. So Now What

“—so now what? You just wait for me to leave so you can— what? Cheat on me?!” Luke seethes.

 

Y/N gapes at him. “Are you fucking serious right now? One bloody picture and you’re— and you— you think I’m cheating on you?!”

 

Luke grins. A grin that she hates, because Luke’s grins are usually with mischief, with playfulness. Not this. Not this malice. He outstretches his arm on either sides of him, like he’s showing something off. “Well, I don’t see anyone proving me otherwise.”

 

One photo of me with another guy and you think I’m cheating on you?” She repeats, because she can’t believe this. She actually cannot believe this.

 

It was just one photo— blurry and of her and another bloke. Her and him leaning into each other because they were in a club, and he was trying to tell her something. The something being that there was a man in his mid-forties, maybe, that had been eyeing her since she’d come in, and gradually coming closer to where she was sat on the stool from her break of dancing with her friends— till the bloke came and pretended like he knew her, so as to drive the creepy fuck away.

 

It worked. But clearly— other people saw it. Thus the photo.

 

And suddenly—suddenly—she’s angry. She’s angry, because relationships are about trust, and Luke obviously doesn’t fucking trust her. If he did, they wouldn’t even be arguing right now.

 

But he doesn’t.

 

Then something hits her. It’s a rather absurd thought, but. She can’t help but wonder— “Do you actually believe that I’m cheating on you, or are you just—” she licks her lips, narrowing her eyes over at him. “—are you just asking to try and make me feel bad, because you did the same fucking thing?”

 

Luke pauses, frowning. “What.” He deadpans.

 

“You’re trying t’ make me feel bad about cheating on you—which I didn’t—because you cheated on me. Didn’t you?”

 

Now that she thinks about it. It’s not that absurd. Not really.

 

Especially when Luke looks incredulous for another second, before he just— doesn’t anymore. His face clears up and all he looks is bored. Hell, he’s even smirking. “Maybe,” he shrugs a shoulder.

 

Maybe, he says. Fucking maybe.

 

Y/N’s dumbstruck for a moment— hadn’t expected him to say that. Now it’s like— fuck. It’s like someone is single-handedly crushing her heart in their palms. (Spoiler alert: that someone is the same someone standing in front of her right now, with blond hair and blue, blue eyes.)

 

Then he speaks again. “Besides. There are tons of other girls out there. Smart. Skinny. Funny. Pretty girls.

 

Fuck anyone who has ever said that heartache is only an emotional pain, because what she’s feeling right now? It’s actually hurting her in the chest.

 

But then— because she’s Y/N. Because she’s stubborn and because she doesn’t like being seen as weak and because she rarely ever lets people in. Because of all of that—

 

“Good thing I never fell in love with you, then.”

 

Luke’s face changes from smug to confused then to fucking heartbroken, and she wants to take it back right at that moment, because she did fall in love with him— she falls more and more in love with him every fucking day, and she’s told him as much. They’ve had those fucking stupid banter where they argue about who loves who more.

 

And she wants to take it back. She wants to say I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry, I love you, I didn’t mean to say that— but then Luke’s letting out a laugh that sounds so bitter, it makes Y/N cringe.

 

“Never fell in love with me, huh?” He bites out— bitter, hurt, disbelieving, bitter. “So you— you never loved me. So you were lying the whole time— whenever you told me that— that you did. You were lying!” Luke yells out, the knuckles of his hand turned white from how tight he’s clenching his fist.

 

Y/N opens her mouth, to say something. But Luke beats her to it— “You don’t love me. You never did, did you?”

 

And it’s like she’s suddenly lost control of her vocal chords and her impulse control and whatever the fuck else, because— “Never.”

 

She’s answered with a scoff of disbelief before he’s brushing past her and storming out, only stopping when he’s got the door pulled open. He looks at her over his shoulder. “You know… I thought— you were different. I thought—” he chokes out a laugh and Y/N wants so desperately to go up to him, tell him she fucked up, that she didn’t mean to say what she did.

 

But Luke continues, “I thought we were actually going to last. Guess it was… stupid of me to think so.” And then he’s— gone.

 

And Y/N stands, watching the door, left alone with her thoughts. Thoughts that just scream you fucked up, you fucked up, you fucked up over and over and again.

 

And the sad thing is— those thoughts aren’t complete bullshit. Because Y/N fucked up. She’s fucked up so bad.

 
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