5 Seconds Of Summer Imagines

Mikey Imagine

You've been working longer hours recently and it had taken an incredible toll on you. Not just your sleep, but on your family life. You hadn't spent any quality time with Michael and your son in what felt like weeks, arriving home when they're both in bed and being gone before either of them are up.

You'd arranged with your boss to take a half day. Being able to surprise your two boys by coming home early and having family time. Your knee practically bounced at your desk as you counted down the minutes until you could leave, rushing the short drive over to your house to be able to see them both.

Climbing out of your car, you sneakily approach the door and quietly slip into the house without, hopefully, bringing it to their attention. You smile as you hear your son's laughter through the house and Michael telling him to stay still as he laughs with him. Curious, you follow the glorious sound and look to see Michael dressing your son. But not in the clothes you expected.

"Mummy!"

"Tyler, mummy is at work, remember?"

"No. Mummy!"

He points at you as you stand in the door way, Michaels head spinning and his eyes meet yours in shock.

"Y/N."

"Hey, boys."

"Mummy!"

"Hey, Tyler," you stop and look him up and down, looking over at Michaels sheepish smile on a guilty face, and you don't know whether to laugh or scold him, "What are you wearing buddy?"

"I dress like daddy."

He plays the air guitar and jumps up and down on the sofa, pretending to "rock out" like Michael does at shows. You look at Michael, his head down at the ground as he thinks he's been a bad parent, and you throw your head back in laughter to assure him its ok.

"You're not mad?"

"Mad? A little." You gesture to your sons usually sandy blonde hair which is purple from hair chalk, "But it's funny. I've missed seeing what happens when we tackle being parents."

You end it on a sombre note, Michael noticing how much it upsets you and he wraps his arms around you from behind, nestling his chin on your shoulder.

"We've missed you, but I think we're doing OK."

"I've missed you, too."

You sigh in contentment, lacing your fingers with his, as you both watch your son jump around and pretend to be his father.