5 Seconds Of Summer Imagines

Michael Imagine

Jotting down the last load of notes on the board, I scribble them quickly just as the bell rings and everyone's chairs scrape along the flooring to get up and leave.
I gather my books in my hands and make my way over to the door, trying my hardest not to get knocked over in the process of leaving the room and heading to my locker.
"Out of my way," a deep voice growls, the crowds of people parting like the Red Sea as a leather jacket clad, bleached blonde haired boy struts down the centre of them all with a scowl set on his face.
Michael Clifford.
Everyone knows not to get into his way. Some girls fawn over him, but he's never seen with any at school. As far as we are all aware, he doesn't do relationships and prefers to remain single.
He is attractive, but I'm not going to be one of those girls that drop to my knees for him. It's not my style.
Just as he reaches where I'm standing, he glances up and looks me dead in the eye and I can feel my cheeks heating up at the intense stare his emerald green eyes gave me.
And, just like that, he's gone.

~

2 weeks later

I'm sat in the library, tying my hair back to prevent it from falling in my face as I write down equations into my notebook and type numbers into a calculator.
"Excuse me? This seat taken?"
I jolt up at the voice, not used to being spoken to - especially in the library - and I'm definitely shocked to see its the bad boy of the school, Michael Clifford.
He has his usual leather jacket on - sleeves slightly rolled up to show some tattoos that he's not even old enough to have done yet - and his bright, green eyes look caring instead of intimidating.
He coughs when he realises I've been staring for a while, and I blush as I mumble a quick "sit" and gesture opposite me.
He smiles lightly, his pale pink lips looking soft and plump across the table and I smile back at him.
We both sit in silence doing our work. My heart is beating faster than it should because I feel like he is listening to my every move, but I try to focus on the work in front of me instead.
"You free tonight?"
My head shoots up as he talks, his eyes looking over at as I swallow to wet my dry throat. Is he being serious?
"Yes, I'm being serious," he smirks at me, eyes dancing with humour at how flustered I'm becoming in front of him.
My mouth opens and shuts several times, making me seem like a complete idiot in front of this god like human being.
"Y-yes?"
"You sure?" He chuckles, standing up from his seat and pulling his notebook up with him and I nod quickly, "OK. I'll meet you out front at 3."
He leans down, kissing my cheek and winking at me as he walks away.
What the hell just happened?

~

At 3, I go to my locker and grab my bag so I can leave. Michael has probably forgotten about me, and I'm sort of OK with that. I don't want to spend any alone time with a guy that I don't know - a guy with a bad reputation as well - but I also want him to be waiting there for me with a smile.
And he is.
"Hey, y/n," he grins, grabbing my books out of my hand and placing a hand on my back to usher me forward with him.
"Hi, Michael," I whisper and he chuckles at my awkwardness.
"No need to me so nervous, princess, I'm literally a kitten," he winks, holding open the car door for so that I can get in and buckle up.
He drives us along the road for 20 minutes, the ride silent but comfortable and we stop off in front of an old fashioned ice cream parlour.
It has canopies outside, covering picnic benches that have families littering them eating ice cream cones and inside is brown and cream with over 50 ice cream flavours in tubs behind glass.
I snort a laugh, not being able to help myself as we walk through the door inside.
"Something funny?" Michael asks, a smile on his lips as he looks down at me in the queue.
"Umm, well, it's just that you don't look like the kind of guy that sits and eats ice cream," I joke, biting back a laugh as he glares at the menu.
"Just because I'm an intimidating bloke doesn't mean I don't like ice cream," he glances down at me, chuckling under his breath and I worry I've insulted him due to his lack of enthusiasm in his response.
"Welcome, what can I get you guys?"
"I'll have a 2 scoop cup; 1 strawberry, 1 brownie and y/n?"
"Same, but with vanilla cream and sherbet."
He pays for both, handing me my cup and leading me outside to the afternoon sunshine and picking a table to sit at.
We both eat in silence, this time it's tense and awkward. If this is his kind of date, it's not going to get him a second one.
"I'm gonna be honest with you, y/n," he mutters, dropping his cup to the table top and looking at me, "I like you."
"O-oh?" I stutter, eyes widening at his blunt confession. This is our second ever conversation.
"Yeah, have done for a while but I never had guts to talk to you," he laughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his neck.
"Is this a joke?" I narrow my eyes and he stills.
"What? No! I genuinely like you, I don't date girls at school because I never had the balls to talk to you."
"Why didn't you have the balls to talk to me? You literally run the school, everyone does as you say," I push him and he looks down at his fingers that are playing on top of the table.
"Just because they all bow to my every command, doesn't mean you will," he mutters, glancing up at me nervously, "you're a bit different to them lot. I know you wouldn't bend over backwards to make me happy, I like that."
"Well, you're right about that," I shrug, cheekily smiling over at him and he grins wider now that's we're becoming more at ease around one another.
"I'm not a bad guy, despite what people say," he whispers and I nod quickly.
"I know. I like you too, by the way," I softly respond and his smile gets even wider as he reaches across the table and takes my hand in his, playing with my fingers and the two of us becoming comfortable.
"Willing to give me a chance then?"
"Yeah. Let's see how it goes."