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iâve missed you girl đ©đ©đ©
i missed you tooooo đ
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reader surprises classmate!michael with concert tickets and an arcade night words: 3.1k! request fill: anon ask! tags: fluff, classmate!michael tw: none! authorâs note: clearing out my old requests so i can start the new ones! listen to: âend up hereâ by 5 seconds of summer
The ringing of the school bell blares behind you and Michael as you exit the building with your bags slung over your shoulders. âJesus Christ, a chem quiz on my birthday? What a dickâŠâ Your green-haired classmate grumbles under his breath, looking back at the school with a glare.
Today is Michaelâs birthday and unfortunately for him, itâs been less than satisfactory.Â
His alarm didnât wake him up on time, so he was late to his first class. Because of the rush getting ready, he failed to notice that his uniform was badly wrinkled and he felt like a total idiot all throughout the day. For lunch was his least favorite food, ham and cheese sandwiches, and to top it off, he had a surprise quiz in chemistry.Â
âIt could have been worseâ it couldâve been a test.â You remind him as you cross the street. âThen your grade wouldâve been tanked.â
A dry huff emits from his slightly-chapped lips. âItâs going down regardless, you know how bad I am at that stuff. Some birthdayâŠâ Michael has a tendency to be pessimistic even when the smallest thing goes wrong. You canât blame him, heâs had a rough day, but youâd be lying if you said it didnât get under your skin a little.
âWelllll⊠I think I can make your birthday a little better.â The both of you reach your car, a silver BMW that your parents bought you a couple of months ago. With Michael in the passenger seat and you behind the wheel, you turn the engine over.Â
âYeah? What do you got planned?â He doesnât think much of your words. Tossing his bag and yours into the backseat of the car, he settles into his seat with his feet on the dashboard.Â
His actions earn an unamused side glance from you. âAre you grounded?â
Michael furrows his brows and he shakes his head. âNo..?â
âGot a family dinner to attend?â
Again, he shakes his head. âNo, Iâve got nothing to do.â
You slowly peel out of your parking spot and down the road, driving the opposite way of both of your houses. âGood, because you wonât be home until midnight.â
Michael didnât know what you meant until now, as heâs standing in front of the flashing lights and mechanical beeping and whistling tones of an arcade, ruffling his shaggy, lime-colored hair. Kids much younger than him are bounding across the colorfully-carpeted floor with sugary drinks and candy in hand, trying to beat each other to the next game theyâd be playing. A few teens his age are stuck at one game trying to solidify their high score. A man in his thirties who looked bored out of his mind stands behind the counter dealing out prizes to the many arcade-goers crowding around it. âI thought you hated these kinds of places.â His hand rubs at the back of his neck, looking down at you to his left.
You force a smile as some grimy kid with snot narrowly brushes your leg as he passes by you. âHate? No! No, no, no, no, no.. I donât hate arcadesâ I mean, sure⊠theyâre a little⊠dirty⊠but that doesnât mean I wonât come to one.â With a deep breath, you try to settle into the overstimulating environment. âPlus, I know you havenât been to one in awhile and you love them. I figured you might want to come here for your birthday.â
Michael can sense your discomfort, and he doesnât blame you. This isnât the type of arcade youâd find at the mall thatâs been sanitized extensively every night. The buildingâs been around since the early 80s and is probably a health hazard, but itâs stood the test of time. A crooked smile slowly forms on his lips and he nods, trying to act oblivious to you. âThis.. this is really great.â
His shoulder bumps yours in an affectionate gesture. âI mean, really, thank you.â
For a moment, you think heâs going to be sweet to you because of the gesture, but that wouldnât be very Michael-like. His eyes flicker over to the pizzeria area of the arcade.
âYou know, maybe afterwards we can go get pizza.â He sees your face contort. Both of you are well aware that the sanitation in the kitchen likely isnât the best. Heâs willing to bet theyâre using the same sauce from the nineties and the oven probably has asbestos in it. âIâm sure it's delicious, and maybe we can go in the ballpit afterward.â
You smack the back of his head lightly in response to his mocking smile plastered on his face. âNo way in hell. Weâll eat anywhere but there.â
âWhatâs wrong with the pizza? Itâll be so cool, we can pretend like weâre in the Five Nights at Freddyâs pizzeria.â
A childish snort escapes your lips. âYouâre a dork. I am not eating some greasy, week old pizza to fulfill your LARPing fantasy.â
âThatâs not even what LARPing is! You donât even know what youâre saying!â Thankfully, you can tell that his shitty day at school is slowly being erased from his mind. His geeky grin is proof of it.
âDo you want to play the stupid games or not, Michael?â With your hands on your hips, you stand your ground. There was no way you were ingesting a biohazard, even if it was his birthday. His tongue pokes at the inner corner of his cheek and he smiles before dragging you to the first of many arcade games.
After several rounds of Pac-Man, a few games of Street Fighter, and half an hour of Mario Kart, the two of you leave the arcade. When you get behind the wheel and begin driving towards the shopping center instead of the direction of home, Michael speaks up. â....Where else are we going?â
You shrug, nodding at the time on the dash. âItâs not midnight yet. I told you, you wonât be getting home until then. I meant it.âÂ
âOkayyy⊠but where else are we going to go? Are we going to dinner?â He adjusts his position in the seat and looks out of the windows.
âThereâs food where weâre going. Thatâs not what weâre going for, though.â
After a moment of silence, Michael lets out a dramatic groan and tosses his head back. âThis is killing me, where are we going?!â
âShopping!â âYou better be kidding.â
You were not in fact kidding. A few minutes later, youâre dragging Michael into the large complex. Stores line the walkway, most of which blaring pop music from inside and brandishing the latest in fashion on their mannequins on display. âSo, which one do you like?â
His teeth catch on his lower lip as he looks around. Michael sticks out like a sore thumb compared to the other boys walking around the shopping center. Heâs practically drowning in a sea of quiffs and white t-shirts while heâs dressed in a baggy black shirt, black skinny jeans, and his arms are stacked with studded bracelets. âWhatâs the point of this?â
âThe point,â you groan out as you tug him along, âis that you get to pick any outfitâ any one that makes you feel super cool, and Iâll get it for you.â
He eyes you suspiciously. âAny outfit?â
âAny one.â You nod in agreement. âAccessories too. And shoes, it doesnât matter.â
âWhat are you planning?â His eyebrow lifts ever so slightly, head tilted down so that he can look at you.
Itâs difficult to conceal the smile fighting to form on your lips. Michael still didnât know what you were planning. It cost you an incredible amount of money and sneaking back into your house after midnight was going to be a headache, but the result was absolutely going to be worth it.
âYouâll see.â You distract yourself by pointing to a store in the corner of the complex. âHow about that one? Shibuya?â
He thinks it over for a moment. There arenât many places that sell clothes that he likes to wear. Heâs settled on thrifting for the most part, but the store looks dingy enough to be something heâd enjoy. Michael nods once. âSure, why not?â
Once the two of you enter the store, youâre greeted by a woman who is much more friendly than she looks. Sheâs got a few body modificationsâ gauges, a split tongue, and a sleeve of tattoos that must have cost a fortune. After ushering Michael into a small dressing room, he begins to try on a few different options.Â
First, he comes out with a wool sweater-like shirt with ribbons along the sleeve and baggy shorts only held up by his hands.
With a giggle, you open your purse to find your phone, hoping to catch a picture of the disaster. âWait, waitâ stay still!â
He bats your hand away and runs back behind the curtain stifling his laughter. âNo way! Absolutely not!â
The second outfit that he comes out in is a bright neon shirt with holes in it and a pair of red, leather pants.
âI mustâve been high when I picked this out.â He stands in front of you with slouched posture, the shirt practically hanging off of him and the pants hugging him so tightly you donât know how heâll get out of them.
You donât even get a minute to look at the outfit before Michael is shoving himself back into the cramped dressing room and tossing the clothes off of his body.
Finally, Michael finds the outfit that fits him the most.
It doesnât look any different from the ones he always wears outside of school. In fact, if you didnât know any better, youâd think they were the same old ones heâd been sporting since sophomore year. But thatâs his taste and you canât complain if it truly makes him comfortable.
He exits the dressing room in a shirt with Kurt Cobain on it, black except for the lettering on the back. The black jeans he wears are ripped and skin tight, ending with black Doc Martins on his feet. A red flannel is thrown over his shoulders. He takes a minute to look into the mirror, clearly feeling himself.
âThis is it.â He decides, turning around to show you the full outfit.Â
With an exhale of resignation, you accept that no matter how much money you offered him, Michael would always circle back to his dark style. âAlright, letâs go check out.â
âWait a sec.â You stop in your tracks, turning around in confusion. âYou need an outfit.â
âMichael, itâs your birthday.â
âI know,â he begins, dragging his hand along one of the racks beside him. The clothing ruffles against each other. âBut I want to match.â
The boyish grin on his face tells you all you need to know. He doesnât really want you to match, but he does seem interested in getting to dress up his pretty girl best friend. Your eyes drift around the store. There are quite a few risque outfits lying around and even though heâs respectful, any boy would want to see a girl in them. But itâs his birthday, after all. Why not give him the reins and choose for once?
âFine, but if you hand me lingerie and expect me to leave the store wearing it, youâre dead.âÂ
In the end, the two of you check out with your clothing and change in the bathroom, carrying your old outfits in the bag given to you by the cashier. While he did give you a few outfits to try on that were more for his eyes, he eventually settled on something that bore a passing resemblance to his own clothing.Â
Wearing a pair of small, black denim shorts, a white Nirvana tunic tank top, and a grey and black flannel, you and Michael make your way back to the car. In Michaelâs hands are tacos that you bought for the two of you inside the shopping center. The green-haired boy has already eaten half of his by the time both of you settle into your seats in the car.Â
âOkay, seriously, where are we going?â He mumbles before sinking his teeth into his taco again, biting a chunk off of it and chewing slowly.Â
âThe city.â You say without further explanation. You grab your food out of the bag and begin to eat. As Michael finishes his, you nod towards the center console. âGrab the wristbands out of there.â
He studies you for a moment before opening the hatch and pulling out two neon yellow paper wristbands. âWhat are these for?â He watches you take another bite of your taco and shrug. Rolling his eyes, he peels off the paper end and connects the sticker to the other end, making a bracelet around his wrist. After youâre finished, he does the same for you.Â
It doesnât take long for the car to pull up at some venue in the middle of the city with a cue down the block. The hum of neon lights inside is familiar to both of you, who frequent underground shows in places like this. Instead of heading to the back of the line, you lead him to the front and flash the bracelets to the bouncer. He nods wordlessly and opens the steel door for the both of you. Inside is a crowd gathering at the front of the auditorium. A bar is towards the back of the room with a bunch of people flocking to get cheap beer in flimsy plastic cups. The floor lets out an audible shhlick sound, akin to the sound of velcro, with every step of your boots.Â
âIs this..â Michael looks around, then to the familiar logo of his favorite band, Good Charlotte.
âYouâve been saying how much you want to see them live, I figured you might want to see them sooner rather than later. The bracelets give you backstage access, by the way, and free drinks. Barricade tooâ but I know you might want to be in the mosh pit, so Iâll let you choose.â
You swear you can see the boyâs heart beating in his throat as he takes it all in. Inhaling the stuffy smell of sweat, leather, and cigarette smoke, he lets out a laugh of disbelief. âI cannot believe this, youâre incredible!â His voice peaks at the end, getting increasingly louder to accommodate the surroundings and his excitement.
You attempt to brush off the compliment, but youâre cut off by him grappling you into a crushing hug.
âIâm gonna go get us drinksâ you go to the barricade, okay?â With an enthusiastic nod, you watch him rush off to secure beers for both of you.
The concert feels like itâs over in a flash. Maybe it was the blaring music, the energy from the crowd, the copious amounts of beer, or the lights flickering over the room like lazerbeamsâ but sooner or later, you find yourself stumbling out under his arm with comedically large smiles painted on your lips.
âThat was awesome!â He exclaims, his tongue flicking over the cut on his lip. A few songs into the set, a mosh pit had formed and Michael was more than eager to jump in. He came out, miraculously, with only a few minor injuries: a bruise on his cheek, a cut lip, redness under his eye which was sure to darken in a few days, and a few more marks on his arms and legs. âAnd did you hear that guitar? That was nuts!âÂ
You shush him with a giggle. Michael is never quiet, whether heâs sober or drunk, but heâs especially boisterous with beer in his system. Youâre sure that if you had to guess, your blood alcohol content would be 100%, even if that was impossible to achieve. âI know!.. You looked so cool in the mosh pit, Mikey, I wish I got pictures!â
The doors of the car slam behind you as you shuffle in and start the car. âOkay, okay, shhhh.. I need to focus.â You press a finger to his lips and he grins, licking the tip of it and making you scream. âEw!!! What is wrong with you?!â
âY/N, drive!â Rolling your eyes, you pull out of the parking lot at an alarming speed, rushing back to his house to drop him off.Â
âSo, did you enjoy your birthday, Michael Clifford?â You try to put on your best sober voice, attempting to sound put together. The facade only lasts a minute before you both burst into a fit of laughter.
Once you quiet down, he leans back into the passenger seat and sighs. âI did, Y/N L/N.â He leans over the center console and drags his index finger down your cheek. âI canât believe you did all this for me. You must really love me.â He pokes your face and you swat his hand away with a smile.
âUhuh, loads.â You sit up in your seat and turn onto his road. âBut you love me too, idiot.â
He gasps in fake surprise and turns away from you. âYouâre SO MEAN!â
When the car pulls up to his house, you step out of the driverâs seat to help him out. His face is smushed against the glass and his breath fogged up the window ever so slightly. Gently opening the door, you help him unbuckle his seatbelt and exit the vehicle. The feat isnât easy considering you arenât any more sober than he is. With a groan, he leans against the car and looks down at you.Â
âThank youâŠâ He mumbles into the night air. The streetlights lining the road had extinguished a few hours earlier. By now, itâs a little past one. âThis was a really good birthday.â
Delirious and tired, you rub your eyes and nod. A yawn slips past your lips. âNo problemâŠâ
His head tilts back and he glances up at the deep blue sky before glancing back down. âNo, I mean.. A really, really good birthday.â
âMâ glad I could make it so good.â You respond with a smile.Â
âYâknowâŠâ He lowers his head a little to be just above yours, stooping down over you as you stand on the curb. âI know a way that you can make it even better..â
Even drunk, you roll your eyes and shove him to the side, urging him to advance towards his house. âNo way in hell, you idiot.â
He steps around you and heads up the concrete walkway towards his house. âCanât blame me for trying!â He calls out over his shoulder. He fumbles under the doormat to find the house key and slowly inserts it into the doorlock, opening his door.
âGoodnight, Y/N.â
âGoodnight, Michael.â
âGet home safe.â
âI will, Michael.â
âAnd if you rethink what I said justââ
âGo inside, Michael. Goodnight.â
âOkay, fine. Goodnight.â
#classmate!michael#5 seconds of summer#long way home#5sos imagine#5sos fanfic#5sos#5sos preference#5sos smut#michael 5sos#michael gordon clifford#michael clifford 5sos#michael clifford#solo michael#5sos michael#am i cool enough#mikey clifford#luke 5sos#michael clifford cool#michael clifford x reader#michael clifford fanfic#michael clifford smut#michael clifford imagine#5sauce#5sos x reader#1d x reader#1d#1direction#harry 1d#1d fandom#1d forever
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y'all sorry for the break i've been having an intense glowup
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oh dear god.
luke doesnât strike me as the stella artois type but yk you learn something new every day
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do u have any mikey wips? :3
if you mean work in progresses (im terrible with abbreviations but please don't stop using them) yeah, i'm writing a classmate!mikey fluff one inspired by end up here, pt. 2 of drinking with him, bestfriends to lovers, and another drinking with him fic đ
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jesus that fucking ask is gonna be in my brain 24/7 now omg
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Ok so I saw an add for customizable underwear where you can put your partnerâs name on the back of the waistband of a thong, please donât ask me why my FYP was on something that day
But ANYWHO it got me thinking that maybe y/n does that for her bf!Ashton and he is OBSESSED, and he makes her keep them on. You catch my drift? ;)

YES HOLY SHIT
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realll i wish heâd be more open and jokey. heâs so private it genuinely makes me wonder if he (or any of the other guys) have slight regrets about their chosen career path.
like iâm sure they love the money and ability to make music for a living but they were so young and donât seem to enjoy it. maybe they wouldâve preferred finding quieter success in music as adults like ashâs step dadâs band
i think they really enjoy their fans and how many they have but fame is SO much pressure, especially with people like that around adding to it.
i think they gained their fame so quickly that they never had time to adjust to it, it overwhelmed them, and then it changed them. it happens a lot.
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idk what type of opinion this is but i think luke lost a shit ton of his spark to arzaylea and now that's he's matured he's totally different from how he would've been if he didn't date her
like even though maturing means you change, i think he wouldn't be this sedated now and he'd be a TINY bit closer to how he was back then (making more jokes, smiling more, etc.)
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so many people are liking my old fics and it's throwing me for a loop lol did they just start showing up on the fyp?
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#fun polls#tumblr polls#random polls#polls#poll time#5 seconds of summer#long way home#5sos imagine#5sos fanfic#luke hemmings#5sos preference#5sos luke#5sos#luke 5sos#michael clifford 5sos#5sos smut#michael 5sos#5sos michael#michael clifford#ashton irwin 5sos#5sos ashton#ashton 5sos#ashton irwin#5sos calum#calum hood 5sos#calum 5sos#calum hood#2014 girl#tumblr 2014#2014 nostalgia
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perchance could you write highschool au nerdy!michael who has a crush on also nerdy fem!reader? but like reader is like the cool nerdy like popular nice nerd ykwim? and can it be based off their song Vapor plzđ i feel like that would be so cute, they could like meet because of a school club event or smth idk just a suggestion
YES !! đ
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Hihi! I just had an idea, and like, even though I canât write it I feel like you could⊠so. Reader is 5SOSâs opener. Reader is close with Michael. Reader and Michael fuck. Anyways thatâs it !
i love!!! also i love the way you talk idk how to explain it!
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LEAKED 5SOS6 SONG
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drinking with bsf!mikey... smut...? đ
DOUBLE YES đ
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desperately need more of drinking with bsf!mikey if I had to be honest
YUM OFC!!
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