Michael Clifford Imagines

How you meet (you're a fan)

How you meet (you're a fan)

By: shippinguntiltheend on tumblr

You're walking home from your best friend's house in the middle of the night, a little buzzed, taking occasional sips of the beer in your hand. It's the heat of the summer, the middle of January, so you're not cold in your skirt and light hoodie. From in front of you, two figures suddenly appear in the darkness. As they pass by you, you glance up at them - and then do a double-take, unable to believe what you see. You're normally really shy, but the alcohol gives you some confidence you didn't know you had.

"Hey!" you call after the boys, who are now slowly being swallowed by the night. In unison, they turn back to you, pausing. "I'm so sorry to bother you, but you're Luke and Michael!" A stupid grin is plastered on your face, but you find yourself not caring as they mirror it, walking over to you.

"Yeah we are, hi!" Michael says to you. "I take it you're a fan?"

"Yeah," you giggle, "Could I get a picture maybe?"

"Of course," Luke replies.

You fumble in your purse for your phone as the boys walk to either side of you, Luke throwing an arm around your shoulders and Michael slipping one around your waist, giving you a little shock of glee. Michael's always been your favourite.

After you take a couple selfies, you say to them (again, thanks to the alcohol), "Could you kiss my cheeks maybe?"

"Of course," Luke says again, and you feel their lips on your face.

You're holding down the camera button to get a bunch of pictures, when you suddenly feel a hand reach across your face, pulling it to the side. You almost jerk back as you feel a pair of soft lips press against your own, lingering for a second before slowly pulling away. You stare, in absolute shock, up at Michael, unable to form one word.

"What the fuck?" Luke exclaims from your other side.

Michael merely shrugs.

"I think you're really hot, so why not kiss a hot girl?"

"I don't know, you could buy her dinner first?" Luke says, slightly aghast.

Michael turns to me with a smirk.

"So you wanna go get dinner?"

You finally find yourself able to form a word: "Yes."