Imagines (5SOS and 1D)

Skype (M.C)

* Y/N stands for your name *

I turned on my laptop and waited patiently whilst it booted up.

My phone buzzed beside me and I giggled as I saw Michael's name flash across the screen.

I read his impatient text and laughed louder.

From Michael:
How long does it take that fucking laptop to turn on? Come on baby I miss you!

I smiled at his text, and put my phone down.

As the laptop slowly switched on, I went to go get a sweater.

The weather had taken a dramatic turn, leaving the house chilly.

I jogged up the stairs and entered the bedroom, my eyes scanning the room for the sweater I wanted.

Spotting it on the bed, scrunched up in a ball, I grinned.

I grabbed it and pulled it on, hugging myself as it swallowed me up, hitting halfway down my thighs.

I inhaled deeply and the smell of him wafted up my nose, making my mouth water.

He always smelt so good!

I turned and left the room, hearing the house phone ring loudly.

I raced to get it, answering on the third ring and was prepared to tell the person on the other end that I was busy and couldn't talk.

"Hello?" I greeted.

The voice that came through the other end was not the one I expected.

My lips pulled up into a full grin and I felt my heart racing uncontrollably.

"Hey baby girl," he cooed, his voice deep and husky. "Are you gonna get on Skype because I fucking miss your beautiful face."

I walked to the living room and sat on the sofa, seeing the laptop had finally booted up.

I clamped my legs shut, already feeling the tingle between my thighs at his simple words.

His voice was laced with lust and I knew what he'd want to do when I finally Skyped him.

"Michael," I breathed.

He chuckled I response to my breathless words.

"Are you missing me baby?" he groaned.

"The laptop has just come on. Give me a minute and I'll call you okay," I told him.

"Alright baby. I'll see you in a minute," he replied.

"Bye," I giggled, hanging up the phone.

As I turn on Skype, I angle the camera so he can't see the sweater.

I'd snuck it from his tour bag when he left and hoped he wouldn't notice.

He hadn't texted or called asking about it so I figured he hadn't noticed.

And i never wore it when we Skyped.

The tab opened and I clicked on his name and waited whilst the line rang.

He answered almost immediately and his smiling face filled up my screen.

His whole face took up the screen and I laughed as he flashed his perfect smile at me.

"Michael," I said between laughs. "You need to back up a little."

He gasped as he backed up.

"Are you saying you don't like my face?" he asked, feigning hurt.

"I didn't say anything like this," I laughed.

As my body shook with laughter, the laptop shifted in my lap.

My eyes caught Michael's gulp and his face became serious.

"Is that my shirt?" he asked, pointing at the screen.

I looked down at the exposed shirt and felt myself blush.

I nodded, and bit my lip, gauging his reaction.

"You look better in it than I do," he grumbled.

"I'm sorry for stealing it," I apologised. "I just wanted something that reminds me of you while you're away."

He blew a kiss to the screen and smiled at me.

"Don't apologise Y/N. I'm glad you have it," he replied.

"I should have gave you something of mine and we could have done swapsies," I pouted.

He blushed and pushed himself back on his bed, as he reached for his pillow.

His hand slipped underneath and I watched him with raised eyebrows, wondering what he was doing.

He pulled out a black shirt, clutching the small material in his big hands.

"What is that?" I asked.

He turned it around, holding it up to the screen and I felt my mouth drop open.

"Michael," I gasped.

He blushed deeper, as he put it beside him and pulled off his shirt.

He picked up the black shirt and pulled it over his head, the material clinging to him a little too tightly.

But it fit him snugly and made his abs more prominent.

I licked my lips without thinking as I stared at his chest.

He wore one of my band shirts, which I'd beginning to think I'd lost.

"That's my favourite shirt," I whined.

He chucked and fingered the picture on the front of the shirt.

"It's one of your favourites, not your favourite," he frowned, as he looked down at his chest.

"And which is my favourite then?" I asked.

"Mine," he acknowledged.

"This shirt smells like you," he said as he breathed in deeply.

His hands clung to the material so tightly like he was afraid to let go.

My eyes pricked with tears, and I wiped at my eyes with the tips of my fingers.

"I miss you so much baby," he whispered.

"I miss you too michael," I replied.

"I can't wait till you come down here again. I hate being so far apart for so fucking long," he grumbled.

"Me too. But it's not long now baby. Two weeks, that's only 14 days," I reassured him.

"I'm honestly going to hold you and not let you go the whole time you're here. I need to be touching you all the time, even if it's just a small touch, like a finger to you arm. I just need you near me," he proclaimed.

"Michael," I cried.

"I love you so much Y/N," he proclaimed.

"I love you too Michael," I replied.