5SOS one shots (boys x Reader)


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7. As Do I

when you fall asleep with your head upon my shoulder

when you’re in my arms but you’ve gone somewhere deeper

Michael shifts his body slightly, readjusting himself so that he’s comfortable, as is Y/N. She’d been quiet, just watching him play his video games. And she wanted to leave, go be productive (haha productive haha) or something, but Michael had wrapped his arms around her and cuddled her, refusing to let her go until she relaxed into his hold while he continued to play his xbox.

 

He shifts his arm, and when he does – her head drops down onto his shoulder. Michael peers at her, startled slightly, then though he wants to fake being disapproving and shite for her falling asleep while he’s playing fuckin’ Call of Duty, he can’t. Because she looks so peaceful, asleep with her head resting on his shoulders.

 

The temporary bright red-head ends up ditching the controller in favour of wrapping his other arm around her body, pulling her closer. Can’t help the content sigh that escapes his lips when she unconsciously cuddles closer to him in her sleep. She’s in his arms and it feels so right and he never wants it to stop feeling right.

Michael ends up laying on his back on the lounge, practically pulling her body so that she’s laying on top of him. He’s going to feel sore, he knows he will, because he’s going to end up falling asleep with another human being on him (not that she’s too heavy for him, or whatever, but, like, they’re both heavy sleepers and the lounge is small, so) and also the lounge they’re on is the most uncomfortable place to ever fall asleep on. He’d fallen asleep on the lounge once, a year or so ago. His back hurt for a good two weeks and he was convinced he’d turned into a seventy year old man overnight (though still looking his actual age because fuck logic).

 

He tightens his arms around her when she shifts, unconsciously clutching at the front of his t-shirt. He ends up watching her then. Just watching her. Like a right creep, but whatever. He's gazing. It’s not creepy. Not weird at all, nope.

 

And while he’s doing this totally not creepy gazing thing (it’s loving and romantic and if you don’t think so then, well, fuck you), he can’t help but think. About her – about Y/N. And honestly, it's nothing out of the ordinary because he thinks about her all the time, she’s always on his mind. But it’s a little different this time because he’s thinking about, and it fucking scares him to even admit it to himself, about the future. About her in the future, about their future.

are you going to age with grace?

are you going to age without mistakes?

are you going to age with grace,

or only to wake and hide your face?

Y/N’s not perfect, he knows that. But that doesn’t stop him from thinking that she’s so perfectly imperfect and he’s the lucky man who’s got her in his arms, and hopefully, has still got her till the day he dies. He’s young and he’s successful, but he knows. He knows that he’ll never want anybody else and it terrifies him to no end but there is no way he is going to ever stop himself from wondering how they’ll age together, how their lives will turn out – together.

 

She moves a bit. Ends up making a small whining sound from the back of her throat before she reluctantly opens one eye, peering up at him. Smiles lazily, mumbling out a soft “hello” while Michael just smiles at her. His smile’s filled with so much fond and he’s just so, so, in love with this girl.

 

“Hi,” Michael mumbles back, just as softly as she had – probably softer. “Alright?”

 

Y/N smiles, blinking lazily up at him and planting a soft and prolonged kiss on his neck, “Hmm. You?”

 

“Yeah, m'good,” he mumbles again. “M'very good.”

 

She hums again in response, then she’s silent. Not quite asleep, but not quite awake, either – not in reality. Index finger tracing slow, large circles against his chest through the thin material of his top.

 

when oblivion is calling out your name,

you always take it further than i ever can

Michael’s an introvert, in the simplest of terms. He’s not the type of introvert who literally hates being around other human beings and talking to them, but he doesn’t necessarily like it. It’s the biggest of ironies, honestly, because he’s in this world famous band that’s bound to get bigger and bigger, and sometimes he just fucking hates people. And all he wants to do is just, sit. Sit and think and get lost in his thoughts and forget about everything else surrounding him.

 

He wants to be so detached from the outside world that he wouldn’t even realise if the world was ending and he was going to probably have a meteor hit him, or something. He wants to forget anything else exists.

 

It’s an odd thing to want. He knows that. He knows that. Especially since he’s in this famous band and, like, he should want more fame. He should want more, and not less.

That’s why he thinks Y/N is perfect, really. It's because while he thinks it’s weird as shit that he can slip into this state of.. – state of oblivion whenever he goddamn pleases when he’s alone, Y/N takes it to a whole new level. She literally gets so unaware and unconscious of what’s happening around her, doing little things (like running her fingers through Michael’s hair if he decides to lay his head in her lap) as if she’s a robot with a preprogrammed setting.

 

And maybe it’s a tad bit weird to other people – how she gets to disconnected from the world sometimes. Maybe. But Michael really doesn't give a fuck, because she's her and she's Y/N and he’s so fucking in love with her and her sometimes getting so lost in her thoughts is one of the countless number of things that he loves about her.

 

He’s so in love with this girl. So, so in love.

 

Michael nudges her lightly, “Hey,” he calls softly. “Babe.”

 

“Hmm?” She hums, looking up at him, blinking slowly.

 

“I love you.”

 

“As do I, you, Mikey,” Y/N smiles softly at him. Leans her head into the crook of his neck, planting another soft kiss to the exposed skin, “As do I, you.”

 
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