5SOS one shots (boys x Reader)


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3. Amnesia -Mikey

Amneisa

based off of amnesia by 5 seconds of summer

[ more ]

I drove by all the places we used to hang out getting wasted

I thought about our last kiss, how it felt, the way you tasted

 

Michael props his elbow out the window, fingers playing with his bottom lip. His other hand’s on the steering wheel, driving idly. His mind’s somewhere else but he’s still kinda concentrating on the road because he doesn’t want to fucking die. He’s got so much to live for. The band, his family, the fans. He’s not going to die anytime soon.    

 

But then he drives past the park with the swings and his heart clenches in a way that he thought it wouldn’t anymore. (And he kind of feels like maybe it’d be okay if he just died because he doesn’t have her anymore.) Michael thought he’d gotten over her. He thought he’d moved on. But then little things like him driving past the park that they used to spend late nights at would bring back memories, so many memories, and he knows that he’s just lying to himself when he says he’s moved on.    

 

Michael takes in a deep breath. He shakes his head, as though to rid himself of the memories that he knows are going to start replying over and over in his head. It’s not working. He takes in another deep breath, blowing out a sigh as he pulls over. The roads are dead anyway. It’s three in the morning and he can’t sleep, thus why he’d gone on the drive. His mind’s plagued with thoughts – thoughts of so many different things. Thoughts like how he’s not good enough to be in the band with the other boys, thoughts like how he’d probably end up dying alone – just fucking fucked up thoughts that made him want to physically remove his brain just to get it to shut up, really. He thought the drive would help with clearing his mind a bit. That’s all he really needed, to clear his head. But then he’s driving past the ice-cream shop they used to go to, then the record store, and now the park.    

 

-

“Mikey,” Y/N calls in a solemn tone, and Michael’s eyes snap towards her. His brows furrow together at her serious expression. He pulls himself up into an upright position from where he was previously on his back, on the grass, staring up at the night sky. Y/N’s not saying anything. Just frowning at him. And Michael’s actually getting proper worried.

 

“Yeah, baby?” He answers, prompting her to go on since the silence is starting to slowly torture him.

 

Y/N frowns deeper. “It’s not fair.”

 

“What isn’t?” Michael asks cautiously.

 

He doesn’t know what to expect, really. He’s a tad bit drunk, as is she, and she usually talks about the most random shit when she’s drunk. She could be talking about something dumb and/or materialistic, but she could also be talking about how someone’s left her.

 

“You. Me. Us."

 

Michael gulps, eyes widening a bit, back straightening just a little more. “Baby –”

 

"It’s just not fair, yeah?” Y/N interrupts him. “How are you prettier than me?” She asks and there’s a genuine pout on her lips that makes Michael’s body sag in relief.

 

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles, shaking his head. He wraps his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his chest. An adorable giggle escapes Y/N’s lips as she allows her body to be pulled into his chest. Michael uses his other hand to tilt her chin up so that she’s looking at him, blinking her beautiful, beautiful eyes that he could stare at all day. “You’re so drunk,” he laughs fondly, thumb rubbing small circles on her cheek.

 

“You are, too,” Y/N smiles up drunkenly at him.

 

“Not as drunk as you,” Michael laughs softly once more. “I love you,” he whispers.

 

“I love you way, way more,” she smiles a little wider, tilting her head upwards and pressing her lips onto his for a soft kiss. “Way more,” she mumbles against his lips.

 

"What have you done to me?” Michael asks, voice hushed, once she’s pulled away and just opted to rest her forehead against his.

 

“I haven’t done anything?”

 

“You’ve done so much,” he shakes his head. “You make me feel all weird inside. Like, I get butterflies in my stomach, and it’s so girly but I really fucking like it. And then, like, when you kiss me? Yeah, when you kiss me, those butterflies turn into… elephants. Fucking elephants jumping around. And I’ve never, um, never felt this way before? Like. I’ve never felt butterflies, or elephants, or whatever, and it’s scary but I really don’t want to stop, like, feeling these things? It’s like there’s a zoo in my stomach and I should probably want them to leave my stomach the fuck alone but I don’t. Those fucking zoo animals can stay as long as they want.”

 

"Are there even butterflies in a zoo?” Y/N asks, blinking blearily, though she’s smiling at him and her eyes are kinda hazy from the alcohol she’s consumed but there’s so much fondness in her eyes that it’s hard to miss.

 

Michael shrugs, “There is in this zoo.”

 

“I love you, Michael Clifford. I love you so much. Forever,” Y/N says quietly, leaning her head back and then pressing her nose to his neck.

 

Michael leans down so that his lips are brushing her ear. He presses a kiss to her temple, before going back to whisper in her ear, “I love you much more. So much more, and for forever, Y/N Y/L/N.”

 

I remember the day you told me you were leaving

I remember the make-up running down your face

And the dreams you left behind, you didn’t need them

Like every single wish we ever made

 

Michael kicks at a stray pebble on the ground, amongst the grass. The park’s just as he remembered it. He hadn’t come to the place in months. Hasn’t had the time. Hasn’t had the need to. The park’s a Y/N and Michael thing. He isn’t with Y/N anymore. The park’s not a thing anymore.    

 

It could still be. If he wasn’t such a fucking idiot. If he hadn’t let her walk away from him. If he had fought for her – the park could still be a thing. It’s not a thing anymore. They’re not a thing anymore, and he fucking hates that.    

 

-  

 

"I can’t take it anymore, Michael!” Y/N finally exclaims. A tear slips out from the corner of her eye and Michael’s still kind of angry (about fuck knows what because he doesn’t even know what they were arguing about anymore) but seeing her cry diminishes his anger the slightest bit. “I can’t take it anymore,” she repeats, voice softer and on the brink of cracking.

 

“So what?” He asks, clenching his jaw. “So you can’t take it anymore. So now what, huh?"

 

She chokes out a mirthless laugh, completely devoid of joy. “All we ever do is argue! That’s not how a relationship’s supposed to work, Michael! I love you, fucking hell – I love you so much – but this… this is messed up. This isn’t right. You’re gone for tour and I’m alright with that because we still talk but even then, we’re arguing! How is that right, Michael? That’s not right!”

 

Michael’s stony exterior begins to crack the slightest bit, because he knows where this is going. He knows she’s made a good point but he can’t fucking live without her. “So you’re just giving up, then?” He practically spits. “Because of some stupid arguments? Y/N, every couple fights! We’re not the only one –”

 

“– But we’re probably the only ones who argue all the time!” Y/N cuts him off. She shakes her head, sniffling as more tears come running down her cheeks. Her make-up’s running down her face now and she looks like a mess, but Michael can still safely confirm that she’s the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. “I’m sorry, Mikey. I’m sorry.”

 

He gulps, “That’s it, then? You’re leaving me?” Michael practically spits out the word like it’s vermin in his mouth. It kind of is.

 

Y/N says nothing. Just wipes at the area under her eyes, smudging her make-up even more.

 

“What about forever?” His voice finally cracks. He doesn’t even know why he was angry anymore.

 

“I’m sorry, Michael, but… maybe our forever wasn’t meant to last.”

 

-

 

Michael stuffs his balled fists into his pockets, staring at the little fountain in the middle of the park. There are coins at the bottom of the fountain and he knows that two of them belong to Y/N and himself. It’s a wishing fountain, they said, in regards to the fountain. Put in a coin and make a wish. It’ll come true.    

 

That’s what they said. It’s obviously not true, just some made up shit, but Michael can’t help but wish and wish it was true. He wishes that the wishing fountain could really grant wishes, then maybe he wouldn’t be so fucking broken and lost anymore.    

 

He wishes that it’ll grant the wish he made, when he threw his coin in with Y/N next to him. That he and Y/N would stay together for a long ass time because he’s pretty sure that this girl is the girl and that he wouldn’t want anybody else.    

 

Michael takes in another deep breath. He seems to be doing that a lot tonight. There’s a coin in his pockets so he pulls it out, flipping it around in between his two fingers for a brief moment before shutting his eyes and tossing the coin into the fountain.   

 

If today I woke up with you right beside me

Like all of this was just some twisted dream

I’d hold you closer than I ever did before

And you’d never slip away

 

Michael whines quietly as he stretches his body out from it’s curled up position that it was in for most of the night. With eyes still shut, he turns on his side, ready to pull at the body next to him and cuddle up to it, hopefully not getting up from bed for at least another two hours, or so. Only, there’s no body next to him.    

 

He slowly flutters his eyes open, taking in the empty spot next to him. It’s remain as it had from when he last made the bed. Still neat. Unwrinkled sheets. Unused pillow.    

 

Michael’s vision starts to blur as he just looks at the spot next to him. She’s supposed to be there. Y/N’s supposed to be there. He wants nothing more than for what had happened to be a dream – a nightmare. Michael doesn’t even know how he’s properly functioned without her, since she left. And he knows that it’s really his fault that she left because he should’ve held her tighter, told her he loved her more often, be a way better boyfriend than the shit one he was before. But he hasn’t got a time machine and he can’t turn back time to do all those things, or to stop her from leaving.   

 

He turns so that he’s on his side now, facing where Y/N would be if she was in bed next to him. He reaches a hand over the spot where she should be laying, palm laying flat on the mattress. He blinks once and he feels a tear running down his cheek. Michael picks up the pillow instead, hugging it close to his chest and burying his nose in it. It smells like her – like Y/N. And if he closes his eyes and tries hard enough, he can imagine that she’s really there next to him and that she was cuddling him, hair getting into his nose and mouth like it always did when she rested her head in the crook of his neck. He fucking hated the hair always going into his mouth but now all he wants is that.    

 

He just wants her.

 

Michael just wants Y/N back. That’s all he wants.    

 

Michael doesn’t want to remember things they’d done in the past, he wants to create new memories. Michael doesn’t want to feel this goddamn ache in his chest, he just wants to have Y/N wrapped in his arms, cuddled up to his chest. Michael doesn’t want his dumb plaid shits, he wants to see Y/N wearing them.    

 

Michael sniffles, rolling over so that he’s on his back now, staring up at his ceiling. He picks up his mobile, going to his contacts and stopping at her name. He knows he should’ve deleted her number ages ago, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t. And he knows that she’s moved on, that she’s happy with some other guy. But he can’t help himself from letting his thumb click on her contact name, calling her number.    

 

It takes a couple rings, but then she’s picking up, “Hello?”   

 

“Y/N…” Michael breathes out, an overload of emotions.    

 

“Michael?“ comes her voice after a tense second of silence. Her voice is filled with disbelief, like she really can’t believe that he’s called her. It’s been months without contact, he understands why she’d be confused.  

"Why can’t I forget you, Y/N?” Michael almost sobs. “Why won’t you get out of my head?”  

 

I wish that I could wake up with amnesia

And forget about the stupid little things

Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you

And the memories I never can escape

‘Cause I’m not fine at all

No, I’m really not fine at all

 
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