strange | michael mell x reader

pot head | one

If Michael Mell was told that today, after his best friend ignored him all day, he'd go to a park to sulk and meet a kid his age high off their ass, face down in a ditch and nearly hitting white then help them home, he'd have asked if he was high too.

But he isnt, but the person in the passenger seat of his PT crusier is.

Hes now driving down an unfamiliar street, one with houses that looked like they werent housing familes with kids who were pot heads, but you never know.

"This one!" The stranger said, pointing to a house that was somewhat familiar. Michael stops the car infront of the house and watches as the teen stumbles out the car, before turing around and walking into the car as if they didnt see it.

He sighs and gets out the car. He didnt even know this kids name, or if they lived here. He helps the stranger to the gates and presses the button to call the house.

"(L/N) residents, who is it?~" A cheerful and quirky voice comes through.

Why did he need to do this again?

"U-um-"

"Hi mom!~ im with Bob Marley Uprising!~" The teen called loudly down his ear.

'Did they read one of my patches and assume thats my name?' Michael thought.

"Y/N.... come in..." The gate buzzes and slowly opens, Michael helps the stranger to their front doors, who hed found out to be Y/N, about to knock when the door opens.

Stood there was a woman who looked like shed be kind, though she had a stern look on her face as she looked down her nose at her child.

"Y/N. In." The woman steps aside when Y/N loosens their grip on him and stumbles into their house, when they dissapear from sight wretching can be heard. Michael cringes but then looks at the mother.

"Thank you for bringing them home, im sorry you had to deal with it. How much do you want?" She asks reaching for a checkbook.

"O-oh i dont need money i was just being kind-" He starts, being cut off.

"How much for you to not tell anyone?"

"I wont tell anyone...? I have no reason to"

"........thank you" She closes the door and Michael stares at it before adjusting his glasses and making his way back to his car. He gets in, starts the engine and drives home.

'Strange kid'

[ d o w n l o a d i n g . . . ]
[ d o w n l o a d c o m p l e t e ✅ ]

Class was even more dull and draining when your friend is gone. He doesnt even have anyone to talk yo about what happened- without mentioning any names.

"This is Y/N L/N, they will be joining us for the rest of high school, be nice-" The teacher tries to introduce, to be interrupted by the new student.

"Does anyone have a lighter? I cant smoke my joint." They say, the class is quiet. Michael stared in disbelief.

'Is their whole personality drugs? Why did they have to come here of all places? Should I be friends with them?'

Y/N seats them to the left of Michael, where Jeremy uses to sit. "Hi Bob Marley, thanks for yesterday." They somewhat whisper beneath the chattering of the class, leaning over to me slightly and smiling.

"Its Michael, and its no problem, i guess? But arent you rich, why are you here?" He asks, taking note of how Y/N looked like they got out of bed, but jeans on then smoked pot.

"Punishment or something, but this is the worst thing my parents could have done for themselves." They say searching around in their pockets, probably for a lighter.

"Oh, yeah your mom seemed angry. Does that happen a lot?"

"The being helped part? No."

They both continued with the conversation throughout the day, failing to pay attention to others or their classes. Between how much they were focused on eachother they hadnt noticed the day ended, but after the teacher told them to leave beacuse they had been sitting in last period for an hour after it ended, they got up collectively and made their way to the school exit.

"Theres a car waiting outside for me, but im probably gonna go get stoned in the park again" You say, fixing your backpack over your shoulder after you put away your notebook and pen.

"How about my basement instead of the park? My moms dont care that i smoke as long as i dont hit white" He says, getting his keys out his pocket.

"Ah, do they realise it doesnt affect your health and if anything improves it? As well as calms anxiety and probably many other things." You ask

"Yeah, and that its only illegal because somewhere in the twenties they were like "we need more illegal things""

"Man your moms are lit, mines a prick"

"You up for it?"

"Of course"

[ d o w n l o a d i n g . . . ]
[ d o w n l o a d c o m p l e t e ✅ ]

"Here we are." Michael says and stops the car outside of his house. "Its no where near as big as yours, sorry"

"Its fine, average size houses are homely, my house just intimidates me and never lets me relax.".

"Thats whack I guess" Michael says as he gets out of his car and opens his door with his house keys.

"Are your moms home currently?"

"Theyre at a dinner party or something"

"At 4?"

"You never know" He says, you chuckle and follow him down to his basement.

"Your basement is so cool!" You say, "im not allowed bean bags at my place, you know how hard it is to relax in a wooden chair? And smoking pot in one?"

Michael laughs, "i havent exactly tried"

"Youre to quirky for wooden chairs"

You both sit down on the bean bags.

"This is the happiest ive been in a while... thanks"