5SOS Preferences/imagines

I miss you ( Michael )

Credits to http://preferences1-d.tumblr.com/

Music thumped around you, the bass vibrating through your body. The club was darker than usual; the sparse strobe lights from the DJ booth bouncing off grinding bodies on the dance floor. The air was thick and musty with smoke, sweaty bodies, and spilled alcohol. The black dress you had squeezed into was the perfect thing to get you free drinks, hugging every curve you had. The beverage in hand was proof enough that you'd made the right decision. The guy beside you was drunk, long arm slung around your waist as he drunkenly slurred on about the things he wanted to do to your body when he got you back to his place. Which wasn't going to happen. Whiskey dick was not your friend, and he was almost guaranteed to be suffering from it tonight. Not the plan for this Friday night. You extracted yourself from his grip and wandered off, weaving through grinding bodies until you'd lost him in the fold of people. Doubling back towards the stairs, the heel of your shoe catches on the fourth step and you stumble back. You'd dropped the plastic cup of alcohol to grip the railing at your left for dear life but a pair of hands were digging into your lower back keeping you upright. "I remember my first time drinking," the male voice grunted behind you, pushing forwards until your regained your balance and stumbled up the remaining steps. "Did the 90's make a comeback?" You snapped, glaring at the guys bleach blonde hair peeking out under a black snapback turned backwards. "I don't know, did Clueless call you for an audition?" He snapped back, tipping his own plastic cup of alcohol against his lips as he appraised you trying to find a comeback. "Don't I know you?" He shouted over the music, leaning against the railing overlooking the dance floor. "I don't associate with people like you so I doubt it," you snuff, leaning your hip against the railing as you watch him turn dark eyes your way. The VIP section is better lit and under these low lights, you realize you do actually know this guy. "You're Luke's friend," he says, forearms tensing when he raised his cup back to his lips. "He's my friend's boyfriend, but yeah," you shout, arms crossing over your chest as you eye his drink. "What, you look like a cat who's spilled its milk," he chuckles, draining his drink and tossing the cup down below onto the unsuspecting people. "I did spill my drink when you so rudely shoved me up the steps," you counter, watching as he frowns at your words and shakes his head. "You fell backwards; I saved your ass, so you should be thanking me really," he shrugs, Michael is his name. You think. "Buy me a drink," you shout over the music when he prompts you to repeat yourself with a tilt of his head. "And why would I do that? You don't even remember my name," he states, watching as you lean in closer to him and wrap your perfectly manicured fingers around his bare bicep. "Michael," you smile, painted red lips pulling over white teeth and Michael stares at you. He doesn't say anything, just walks off back down the steps and disappears in the crowd. You roll your eyes and turn back towards the dance floor. Better make your rounds in search of another free drink. You allow the music to take over and shimmy your hips in beat to the bass thumping off the walls around you. Your roll your hips as you lift your long hair off the backs of your shoulders, smirking when a plastic cup appears in front of your face. Turning you find Michael, his own cup against his lips as he raises his eyebrows at you, and you both chug the shots he'd gotten. "Not gonna fuck you," Michael says against your ear, hands tightening against your hips as you arch into the arousal pressed against your ass. "Doesn't feel that way," you tease, spinning in his arms and he shrugs. "You're Bubbles' friend. Ain't gonna fuck you then see you at another stupid brunch," Michael groans against your ear, pulling your hips tighter against his. Luke had explained the nickname Michael gave his girlfriend at your brunch the other day, and you'd rolled your eyes at the story but, it was kind of cute. Meant she was part of the group. "Besides, you can't fuck anyone and everyone because you need somebody around all the time," he adds, tugging on a strand of hair unfazed when you pull away to glare at him. "Not my fault you wanna fuck everything to fill some void in your heart," Michael explained, dodging the slap you tried to aim on his cheek. "Bastard," you shouted, knocking your shoulder into his as you stormed off towards the club entrance. "Will you come get me?" You beg to the voice on the other end of the phone. "I miss you, please... come get me," you beg again, hoping seeing a familiar face will ease the pain Michael had caused. Not Michael, you. Your ex shows up a few minutes later, tired and groggy but perfect as always. He fucks you, and it does nothing to ease the pain or shadows clouding your heart.