Imagines, blurbs, and mini fanfics featuring College!5SOS or similar 5SOS AUs.
THESE ARE NOT MINE. Credit all goes to the original owners and writers. I've just compiled the 5SOS imagines featuring the boys in college I've come across on tumblr, pin...
WARNING/Rating: M | This is SMUT! No one under 18.
Request: "can you do michael in college, you're friends and studying for exams late at night, hella stressed when he suggests a stress reliever... ;)"
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"If I just mysteriously drop off the face of the planet long enough to be presumed dead, do my student loans follow me if I choose to reappear?"
Michael, who has been staring at his textbook (actually, at a copy of Deadpool Kills the Marvel Universe hidden between its pages, he still believes he's fooling you) unwaveringly for the past twenty minutes, doesn't bother to lift his head. Instead, he shrugs and hums, "Probably. I'm sure you could change your name, move to Iceland, and become a sheep herder, and they'd still find you. Sneaky bastards."
"So, what you're telling me is that I need to keep studying, then," you sigh as you drop your head to the cold wood of the table situated near the back of the library. "Honestly, at this point, I'm seriously considering actually dropping out, changing my name, moving to Iceland, and becoming a sheep herder."
"You don't like sheep," Michael points out as he finally lifts his head to glance at you. When he does look at you, he frowns at the sight before him; your forehead is pressed to the table, your hands are clutching a stack of neon notecards, and empty paper coffee cups litter the space between the two of you. You've been at this for hours, even before Michael sat down in the chair opposite you to study with you (he had no intention of studying, he just didn't want you to sit alone in the library all night again), and he knows that you're beyond stressed. With a sigh, he reaches for the stack of notecards clutched in your hand. "You don't need to keep studying tonight. You're burning yourself out."
"Too late," you huff, your voice muffled by the table, "burnt out around hour three. Got a third option for what I should be doing?"
"Sleeping," he deadpans as he shoves the notecards into the little plastic box he'd decorated for you with Sharpies on a night similar to this your freshman year, "but because I know you better than that, I'm not even going to pretend like I believe you'll listen to me."
"You know me so well," you sigh as you turn your head just enough to face him, "'preciate you, Mikey."
He rolls his eyes but says nothing as he taps his pen against the table and glances around the nearly deserted library. It's nearing two in the morning, all the underclassmen have already given up for the night, so when the idea crosses his mind, he doesn't think twice about it. Instead, he just begins shoving his books into his backpack. "Take a break," he hums as he taps your head with his pen, "come with me."
"If I leave this library, I'm not coming back tonight," you warn him as you shove your notebook into your backpack anyway, "and I need to study. Studying is something I cannot do at my apartment because Anna's boyfriend is over and I don't wanna listen to her fake it."
