5 Seconds Of Summer Imagines

Michael Imagine

During the night, you had been sent several pictures of Michael. Not pictures you wanted to see when you're laid in bed, on your own, waiting for him to come home from the recording studio. He was with a blonde. A girl. His arms wrapped around her body, his kiss against her lips which should have been your own, and it froze your blood in your veins. You should be angry, but you're upset and in shock.

All of the times he's been home late - or not home at all - he was most likely with her. Or one of his other girls. How many does he have?

It's clear the pictures are real and not photo shopped. You got them from a reliable source. One that apologised for seeing them together, but knew that they needed photographic evidence for you. It's not fair for you to be living in love with a man that is only living a lie.

Sitting in the kitchen in your pyjamas, you nurse of a cup of tea in the hopes of occupy your shaking hands and hopefully stop them. It was gone 4am and he still wasn't home. He might have stayed over at the other girl's house, either way, he was going to need somewhere to live once you've kicked him out of this one.

Hearing the gentle click of the door close, your head snaps up in the direction of where the front door is blocked from your view. Taking an uneven, deep breath, you try to calm your nerves but know there is no point in doing it.

You hear his feet on the second floor as he goes to get into your bed, but he must stop short as he bounds down the stairs in search of you. Stopping in the kitchen door way, his eyes are slightly bloodshot from tiredness, and he lazily smiles at you without the slightest of ideas that you know.

"Why are you up?"

You shrug, looking at the contents of your cup, and you sense him move slightly closer to you. You don't want to be in the same room as him, let alone this close to each other. The sight of him is making you nauseas, knowing that he has touched a different girl in the same ways that he touched you.

"Everything ok?"

You throw your head back into a mocking laughter, one void of humour, but holding a cold, sinister edge to it.

"Is everything ok?" you retaliate. He looks confused as he watches you have - what looks like - a breakdown in front of him.

"Y/N?"

"MICHAEL!"

He jumps on the spot slightly, his skin paling more than it already was, and fear strikes through his eyes. The sight strengthens you, giving you the kick of confidence you need to do what has to be done. To end an unhealthy relationship before it ends you.

"Do you think it's O-fucking-Kay to leave your girlfriend, at home, worried about you, whilst you go out gallivanting and shagging the entire town?"

Your voice comes out low and menacing, a threatening tone hinting that you're in no mood to be fucked with.

"Y/N. you need to calm down, OK?"

"Me? Calm down? I'm fine." You smile, the crazy train going full pelt and you want to scream, but you're still not angry. Just disappointed in the pair of you, "Cool as a cucumber."

"I promise it's not what you think-"

"Don't give me the whole bull shit spiel on what it really was. I've seen pictures, Mikey, there's no denying what you did. Be a fucking man, and own up to it."

His jaw twitches from being clenched so tightly, his breathing getting heavier as he realises that he has been backed into a corner. There's no way out for him, he knows that, but he is so desperately trying to think of an excuse.

"I love you."

"Don't. You can't say something like that when you've been with her."

"But I do." he forces it through gritted teeth, like this all too painful for him, but it's more painful for you, even when your body is numb.

"Get out."

"No."

"Michael, for the love of God, get out of this house."

"I'm not leaving you."

"You're not. I'm kicking you out." You almost growl at him, tears finally escaping your eyes as you try to stay upright with your emotions, "Now, get out, before I get the police."

He closes his eyes, his own tears making an appearance, and he looks at you with pleading, watery, green eyes for a final time, before slamming the door shut without a word.